


Adventures of Jason Todd

by PurpleArrowzandLeather



Category: Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-11-06 12:47:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 83,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11036490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleArrowzandLeather/pseuds/PurpleArrowzandLeather
Summary: Jason realizes that his family still cares for him too much. Instead of trying to kill everyone, he tries to take it to heart. Bruce will one day open up to him and finally be the father that Jason needed. Dick Grayson receives all the hugs, and Damian Wayne is human. Tim is a school kid who is constantly sick and needs the utmost care. There will be blood.





	1. U-Turn

**Author's Note:**

> I own no original characters.  
> Anyone else? Meh. If you get the idea that Tim is a little left out in the beginning, that's because he is. He's always been kind of a disconnect, but feels come later for him. Before the first segment of peace, it's really just a lot of emotional death. So uh, don't throw rocks, huh?

Grayson, out on patrol, jumped from building to building. His heart wasn’t in the patrol because today was one of those days where guilt for not saving Jason weighed him down. He should have made it in time, he should have been faster.   
Jason came back as the Red Hood, and also very angry and spiteful. He didn’t hate Bruce for not being able to save him, but he hated Bruce for not killing the man who killed him. He had let the Joker live, taking him back to Arkham.   
Lost in his thoughts, Grayson missed the next ledge with his legs, barely reaching out with his arms to catch himself. He clawed his way up until his elbows held him steady. He took a second to recover himself then hauled his body the rest of the way up.   
He heard a woman shout for help nearby and looked back down the side of the building he had just about fallen from a moment ago. She was backing up slowly as a scruffy man with a knife in his hand pushed her further into the alley. She screamed at him to stop.  
He takes a nicer way down than falling, using the fire escape to flip his way down. Grayson leaves his steel rods at his back, not seeing the need for them. He jumps in between the man and the woman, blocking off his path.  
“Out of my way.” The man growls, pulling the knife in his hand back, poised to strike.  
He slashes down and Nightwing ducks nimbly out of the way. The man quickly flips the knife and swings the other direction, forcing Grayson to bend over backwards to avoid it. He continues bending and uses his arms to quickly put himself back on his feet. The man suddenly lets the knife loose and Nightwing catches the blade as it comes towards him between his hands. He throws the knife behind him. A hand forces its way under his chin and he pulls his head back, the fist grazing his jaw.   
It’s like a game. The man tries and tries, but he still can’t hit his target, unaware that the man he is aiming for is not on the offensive. Another swing, aimed at his head, and Grayson rolls underneath and gets behind him. He ends the fight with a quick blow to the head, leaving the man on the ground.  
The woman runs from the alley, only turning her head back and thanking him. He nods and backs into the shadows. He picks up the knife and examines it.   
“Kitchen knife.” He says tiredly, bored out of his mind, and drops the knife.  
He climbs back up the building and continues on, paying more attention to his footing. He hears footsteps running behind him. He turns around and sees Jason standing there. The only emotion is betrayed by his eyes: hatred and something softer that hadn’t shown through for a long time. He stands stiffly as if realizing he had just run into Grayson. They stand a little over three feet from each other.  
“Hello Grayson.” He says shortly, the softness from his eyes gone. Where's his hood?  
Nightwing nods in reply. Must be a pretty bad night if Jason is this wired.   
“Why are you here?” He growls.  
An answer is churning in his mind, but he can’t say it out loud. The burning intensity of Jason’s mood is overwhelming. All the anger bubbling just under the surface, ready to burst, makes Grayson wary. Suddenly, with a twitch of Jason’s arm, Grayson stumbles back, holding his nose. Another flash registers and his cheek stings.  
“Fight back, Grayson!” he shouts. “If you're going to trespass on my territory, you may as well!”  
Grayson raises his right arm to wipe the blood from his nose, but otherwise doesn’t move. Jason swings again and his chest receives a jarring hit. He braces his legs and waits for the rest of Jason’s fury to be unleashed. He rambles on while he swings.  
“Why don’t you just hate me like everyone else? Why do you have to keep coming back?” He growls, landing a hard blow and forcing the air out of Grayson’s lungs. He tumbles back and hits his head against the roof of the building, his vision beginning to swim.   
Grayson says nothing in response. He just continues to take punch after punch. He hears a dull crack after a kick to his ribs, but he just gets back up. Jason pulls his combat knife and strikes with the flat of the blade, leaving a burning sensation on his wrist. He staggers back a pace or two, trying to see straight. A white-hot pain races up his arm as Jason drags his blade quickly up it. He grimaces, but he still doesn’t fight.   
“Why won’t you fight? Is it pride? You think you’re so much better?”  
“It was never pride.” Grayson responds, almost cut short by another blow to the head. “I can’t leave you behind. You were always stubborn, but I never cared. I never cared how obnoxious you were for a brother, or how much you disliked Damian.” He gulps in breaths of air, fighting to keep upright.  
Jason knees him in the stomach and blood begins to drip from his mouth. While he’s hunched over, Jason hooks his arm upward and punches Grayson in the jaw, flipping him onto his back. His vision patches with colors, blotting out his sight. His head had hit the cement again. He struggles to his feet, though trying to be upright maybe wasn’t the best plan, it was what he wanted.  
Maybe it was the guilt that let him take this without a fight.   
Another cut from Jason’s knife, located on his side, was created in a split second. Though he couldn’t see it, he knew he would need stitches. Jason pushes Grayson up against a generator.  
“You think this makes up for a thing? You can’t possibly think of forgiving me after what I did to all of you. If you think I blame you because you couldn’t save me, I don’t. I don’t even blame Bruce for that, but I probably should. If you think this is your way of redeeming yourself, then it isn’t happening. Bruce wouldn’t kill the Joker, and neither would you. You just followed in his footsteps as the favored son. After he adopted you when your parents died, because you couldn’t save them, he always loved you most.” He nearly shook with his rage.  
He let Grayson drop and turned around. Grayson had never received such harsh words from Jason, and he had never made that remark before. A sense of dread washed over him for a split second as he thought he couldn’t help Jason. But his heart told him to keep hoping, and to get himself home where he could bandage himself up. He got up silently, the will to help Jason later pushing him. He hid behind the generator, hoping he hadn’t left a blood trail.  
From his side he could hear Jason start to turn back towards him. “Grayson, I’m sorry.” He realizes that Grayson is gone and looks at the blood on the ground. “That’s a lot.” He whispers almost to himself.   
Grayson looks himself over quickly, assessing his wounds. He breathes slowly, trying to ease his pounding head. Jason starts talking to himself again.  
“He can’t have gotten that far.” And he was right, for the moment.  
When Jason turns away again, he runs for his apartment. His pain is barely a memory as he books for home. He jumps a gap between two buildings, using his momentum to keep him running. Grayson pulls a sharp turn towards home, automatically following his normal route. He jumps down the fire escape to his window, slipping in under the cover of darkness. By the time he reaches it, most of the adrenaline in his system has burnt off and he shuffles slowly through his apartment.  
He moves deftly, with ease in the familiar space. He maneuvers to the couch, letting himself roll sideways to achieve true comfort and all that good stuff. As he drifts into unconsciousness, he hears a dull thudding, but he doesn’t have the senses to respond. The thudding becomes softer, though he suspects that would be because of his current condition, not for the visitor’s lack of trying.   
Finally, after a moment or two more, his head lolls back and his breaths become shallow.   
………………….   
Jason pounds on the door, ramming his fist worriedly, and sort of venting. He knocks again, louder and faster. “Grayson!” he shouts. Finally, he becomes antsy and kicks the door in. The room is pitch black. A cool breeze comes from the back of the room, adding to his already-winding worry. He fumbles along the wall for a light switch. When he finally finds it, he has already tripped over the coffee table and crossed most of the room.   
He takes in everything in a second or two. Grayson is sprawled out on the couch, and the draft is coming from the open window. Even Grayson knows that he’s a little slow in understanding situations well, but this is one thing he knows well enough.  
Grayson’s breathing is shallow, when it should normally be heavy with sleep. And plus the blood on the couch isn’t exactly a subtle clue. He kneels next to the couch and peels the fabric back on Grayson’s right arm. The long cut is red and warm. The skin around it feels feverish. He should sterilize it. He probably should have cleaned his knife before he used it.  
In the haze of his rage, not aimed directly at Grayson, but he was there to let it out on; he did remember the other cut. He moved Grayson’s arm away from his left side. The cut matches the one on his arm for condition, but it has more depth. He leaves Grayson for a moment to look for his bathroom. He finds it and drags the first-aid into the living room. He definitely should have cleaned his blade.  
Jason goes to his kitchen and rummages through the cabinets. He can’t be completely without alcohol, can he? Jason thinks. He opens the fridge and finds a beer. It’ll have to do. He goes back to the couch and pops the lid off of the beer. When he drizzles it on the wound, Grayson’s hand shoots up and grabs his arm. He looks over at Jason. He takes off his helmet and slides the domino mask off after.  
Grayson looks at him with wide eyes. Does he even realize that it’s me? Jason wonders. Jason picks up the alcohol to resume his cleaning. Grayson watches his in silence, his eyes still inquisitive. Does he think he’s hallucinating? Finally Grayson says something.  
“You… Are you really here?”  
In response Jason pours a little of the beer over the wound in his side. “Am I?”  
Grayson winces and nods. “Feels about right.”   
Jason laughs softly. He continues to find things to help him with the process. He finds a cloth and wipes the blood away. He goes to Grayson’s closet and pulls out a loose hoodie. He throws it on Grayson, who leans forwards and takes off the shirt of his costume. Jason gets the stitches and Grayson waits patiently as the needle goes in with the string, and back out. He does the same to the other wound. He looks over the rest of his chest, patched with bruises; one spot is darker than the rest, on the left of his ribcage. He pushes gently on it and Grayson hisses.  
“Don’t do that.”  
Jason shakes his head and continues to inspect it. “Cracked.” He says after a bit, but he leaves him alone after that. He helps him with the hoodie and he lets Grayson get changed the rest of the way out of his suit while he rummages through the cabinets to find something to eat. Grayson comes back and opens a low cabinet, pulling out a cereal box.  
“If you were hungry all you had to do was ask.” Grayson comments.  
Jason hums in acknowledgement and Grayson grabs two bowls. The early morning light peaks through the windows, making Jason realize that he was out way past midnight on the streets last night. Grayson pours cereal into his bowl and then gets up to open the fridge. Jason takes the box of cereal and pours himself some. Grayson sits back down, pours the milk and hands it off to Jason. Jason pours it over his breakfast and Grayson reaches over to the drawer next to him and pulls out a couple spoons. He hands one to Jason, who begins devouring the cereal.  
“You act like you haven’t eaten in a week.” Grayson points out, with a slightly hidden smile.  
Jason nods and thinks about his comment. It probably was true. He didn’t really think about eating, though he wouldn’t turn down a free meal. It just wasn’t one of the things he thought about. He looks over himself, realizing that he is a little slim. The muscle there is the only thing that hides that he hasn’t eaten in a week.  
“You haven’t, have you?” Grayson asks suspiciously, slightly worried.  
Jason shakes head continues to eat his breakfast. He runs his hand over his hair and wipes his hand on his jeans. At least he gets to wear jeans with his outfit. Grayson has to live with tight clothes.  
“When was the last time you actually took good care of yourself?” Grayson questions. “You look like you could use a shower. A long shower.”   
Jason shrugs his shoulders and Grayson responds with a chuckle.  
“You don’t know do you?”   
Jason shrugs again and downs the milk in his bowl. Grayson finishes his breakfast shortly after and gets up, putting his bowl in the sink, taking Jason’s with him. He moves like he wasn’t just passed out on his couch. The only noticeable affect it had on him was when he bends down or twists in odd directions, then it’s noticeable when he winces.  
When Jason turns to see where he is, he’s gone. The next thing he knows, a t-shirt is being thrown on his head and a hoodie after that. Jason pulls them off; Grayson is back in the kitchen wearing running shoes.  
“You’re going on a run?” Jason asks incredulously.  
Grayson just hums in acknowledgement. He must be feeling better. Jason goes to the bathroom and changes into Grayson’s street clothes. It’s a good thing that they are roughly the same height; otherwise the shirt would never have fit. He stands in front of the mirror, pondering why he’s even still hanging around.  
Then he thinks about the clothes. At least the shirt is plain. And he likes the fact that Grayson picked out a red one, with no polo neck. He slings the hoodie on overtop. It’s a dark navy blue. His blonde hair stands out against the color, making him look younger, happier even. He frowns. He can’t be happy. What is he thinking? He’s the Red Hood, and he’s not supposed to be a happy person.  
Grayson walks past the doorway muttering about something. A door opens and closes and Jason hears a drawer slide open, and then a triumphant “Aha!” comes from Grayson’s room. Jason peeks his head in to see what he’s found. A wallet?  
“I’ve been looking for this since yesterday.” He says as he slides it into his jeans pockets.   
“Why do you need your wallet?” Jason asks   
“I don’t. It’s just good to know where it is.” He smiles at Jason warmly.  
Jason doesn’t give his consent, but the smallest smirk forms on his lips. Grayson walks over to him and inspects his clothes. “I thought the hoodie might be a little big, but it’s all right.” He walks back out to his living room and Jason follows silently.  
“Wait a minute. Are you taking me on this run of yours?” He had suspected that that was what was happening, but he didn’t expect Grayson to just have everything ready for him. Then the truth dawned on him. He had been trying to help him, all those nights in the darkness. He had let Jason take out all his anger on him, because he knew that he could take it. He was waiting for him to come back to him and the rest of his brothers.  
Grayson finally answers him. “Of course I am. Did you think I gave you the hoodie because I thought you were cold? Oh, and I usually meet up with Damian a couple blocks south of here. I hope you don’t mind having him along.”  
Jason shook his head and pulled the hood of his jacket up. Grayson led the way and instead of taking the elevator, he took the stairs. It’s only four stories, but it should be a lot of work for a normal person in his condition. Then again, who in their family was ever normal? He thought again about Grayson, the way he waited patiently. The way he let him beat him to a bloody pulp some nights. Jason thinks back to their last fight as he clears the stairs. Sure, he saw determination in Grayson’s eyes, but he also saw guilt.  
He hadn’t meant to say his thought aloud, but he did. “You think you deserve it.” He whispered. Grayson stops in his tracks. He turns to face Jason and he voices his suspicion.  
“You think you deserve it.”  
“Deserve what?” Grayson asks.  
“You think that because you couldn’t save me, that you deserve to be punished. That’s why you let me tear you up. But you tear yourself up enough on the inside, why do you need to punish yourself on the outside too?”  
Grayson looks shocked, as if he hadn’t expected him to realize what was going on. He stammers, trying to find a response, but then Jason does something he would have never expected.  
Jason rushes forwards and hugs his brother. Grayson begins gripping the back of his shirt tightly and whispering ‘sorry’ repeatedly into his shoulder. Jason isn’t really familiar with the concept of a hug, but he rubs his knuckles along his brother’s spine and tells him it’s okay. When he pulls back Grayson turns away.  
“You never deserved that, Grayson. It was never your fault.” Jason takes a cautious step towards him.  
Grayson runs a hand through his three-inch black hair and starts down the stairs again. When Jason catches up, he realizes that Grayson is smiling like a fool. Jason smiles to himself, finding that he enjoys his brother’s happiness. They run out the door and into the cold wind. Grayson pulls his hood up on his black hoodie and begins running south, thankfully, the wind is at their backs. Frigging winter.  
Just like Grayson had said, Damian met them a couple blocks away from his apartment and ran with them in the cold. Damian didn’t recognize Jason.  
“Who’s your friend?” he asks questioningly.  
Grayson looks at Jason and he nods. He pulls his hood down and lets Damian soak it up. He blinks, like he thinks he isn’t seeing what he expected.  
“Todd?” Jason nods. “What are you doing here?”  
Jason winces internally. If Damian found out what happened, he would tear Jason’s head off. He was very protective of his older brother, even though he knew that Grayson could take care of himself. Damian shrugs and they continue on. Jason becomes concerned after about another mile when Grayson’s breathing becomes more labored than it should be.  
Damian beats him to the punch. “Are you all right, Dick?”   
“Fine.” Grayson responds tightly.   
Damian rounds on him and pulls his hood down, revealing the bruises on his jaw and his cheeks. Damian’s eyes widen and he instinctively pulls up his hoodie from the bottom hem, just like Bruce used to do when he suspected them of injuries they wished to conceal. The roughness of Damian pulling Grayson’s jacket against his stitches makes Grayson let out a muffled yelp. He was unprepared for Damian’s brutal discovery. Damian gasps and runs his fingers along the stitched area.  
“Who did this to you?” Damian growls without looking up at him.  
“It doesn’t matter.” Grayson says quickly.  
“It does matter. How come you didn’t call me? Do you think that this is a joke?” He looks up at him. He looks angry, but a hint of worry is just readable below the surface. “I would have come to help.”   
“Jason was taking care of it.” Grayson shrugs and starts walking on, picking up a little speed and he continued, finally getting to the point of jogging again. When they round the corner to head east, a thug ran by them, carrying a briefcase. Jason grabs the case as he tries to push through. The man pulls back. Jason holds tightly. The man pulls a gun and Jason’s expression doesn’t change. Jason starts to move around clockwise, but the man stops him.  
“Don’t move, but let the briefcase go.”  
Jason doesn’t let go. The man cocks the pistol, pulling a round into the chamber. Then he does something unexpected. He points the gun at Damian. Grayson immediately steps in front, but Damian pushes forwards.  
“I can fight my own battles.” He growls.  
Grayson nods, but still keeps Damian half hidden behind him. Jason jumps for the gun and at the movement the man turns his weapon towards him. The shot goes off and the man drops the briefcase, leaving it in Jason’s hand as he falls.  
“Jason!” Dick shouts.  
Jason crumples into a heap on the ground. Grayson crouches next to him and rolls him off his side. Jason coughs and opens his eyes. He looks down at the hoodie and holds the area on his stomach where the stain is showing through. He groans and leans his head back on the cement, grimacing. Grayson pulls the hem up and reveals the wound in his stomach, pulling the hoodie more gently than Damian had.  
“Hold still, Jay.” Grayson says firmly.  
Jason does as he’s told, not liking it one bit as he shouldn’t need Grayson to take care of him. Damian opens the briefcase and turns it around so Jason can see. It’s filled with money. Jason begins to ignore Dick’s pleas for him to sit still and he rolls onto his stomach and pushes himself up.   
“We need to get you to a hospital.” Grayson says.  
“The way you’re breathing, they would check you out too, and then we’d both be in trouble.” Jason responds.  
Dick just nods as he realizes that his breathing is rattling in a not-so-subtle way. Damian stands close to him as he coughs dangerously hard. He never really liked Jason, but he took a bullet for him and he owed him. Though, since Jason shot him they should be even. The man who shot Jason stands about twenty feet away with a horrified look in his eyes. Dick gets up and storms over to him.  
Jason watches on as Dick rounds on the man with so much anger in his expression that the man stands there, paralyzed. Jason is pretty sure that if Grayson was any angrier the man would disintegrate where he stood. Jason groans as he puts more pressure on his wound. He feels weak from blood loss and his legs feel numb. Dick begins to yell at the man, which he probably shouldn’t be doing. Jason almost stumbles but Damian had grabbed hold of his waist to hold him steady. Lucky for him, he was strong for a ten-year-old.  
The man backs up too quickly and he falls backwards. Jason calls out Dick’s name to stop him from doing something that he’ll regret. Grayson turns to face him and all the anger disappears as Jason’s legs give out. He runs back to him as Damian struggles to keep him upright. He turns and gives the man one last hard look before slipping under Jason’s arm and taking his weight from Damian.  
……………..  
“We need to get him somewhere safe where we can patch him up.” Grayson says.  
Damian nods and leads the way. Damian may have met them only a couple blocks from Dick’s apartment, but his safe-house is farther than that, closer to the end of the run. They are only about half a block from it now.  
“Where are we going, Wing?” Jason asks, clearly dazed.  
Damian is surprised by Jason’s use of Dick’s old nickname. Grayson chuckles, clearly thinking of it as a good thing.  
“Not far, Jay-bird. Not far.”  
Damian smiles to himself. These two are obviously on better terms than Jason and himself. Damian opens the door to the safe-house Grayson had set up for Damian’s privacy. Jason groans as Grayson pulls him into the main room.   
“You gonna make it, Jay?” Grayson asks.  
Jason strains out a ‘mmhmm’ as an easy way of saying yes. Damian clears a table, careful not to drop the glass dish from the middle. Dick lays Jason on the table while Jason struggles to stay conscious. Damian pulls out the first aid kit that his overprotective brother (Cough, Cough, Dick Grayson) had instructed him to keep. Grayson takes the knife from Jason’s pocket.  
“How did you know I had a knife?” Jason slurs.   
“Jason, you always have a knife.” Dick responds.  
Jason starts with a chuckle, but it comes out in short gasps as Grayson digs after the bullet with the tweezers and the knife. The hilt of the butterfly knife is rough with red jade and it scrapes against the inside of the wound. Jason begins gripping the side of the table. After one last push which results in an almost-scream that escapes Jason’s lips, Dick has ahold of the bullet and he pulls it out. Jason groans and he releases the edge of the countertop. Grayson begins stitching him up as Damian cleans off the two things he used.   
Jason, as soon as Dick is done stitching him up, slides off the table, holding his side gingerly as he goes.   
……………  
The taller of the two men with jet black hair had rounded on the thief with such anger that the man had tripped over his shoes. His accomplice stands in the alley directly behind them. They were a curious group from the start. He had seen the whole event, heard things that the other man hadn’t. He also saw the taller man kneel ever so quickly to help the blonde with the bullet in his stomach.  
He decided to follow them, considering they didn’t leave in the direction of any hospital he knew. And he had also seen enough to know that both of the older men were injured. The youngest of them all seemed cocky.   
He lets them be for a few hours just to pass the time between now and his deadline. The accomplice makes a phone call.  
“I’ll need some help, but I found possible candidates for our friend to bait the Bat.”   
The person on the other end responds with a growl.  
“Of course we’ll be able to bring them in without much hassle. The only question is, how many do you need?”  
“Two or three. And be sure that it’s in a well-known area that he patrols.” A modulated voice chuckles. “I’ll have some men at your position, very soon. They were in the area. We’ll need them at the warehouse by midnight. You have four hours.”   
..................  
Jason jerks awake, sitting straight up on the table. A couple hours before, Damian and Grayson had changed the table into a bed. Damian slept on the one actual bed he had and Grayson had taken the floor. Grayson is now sitting up stock-still, just like Jason. He had slept right next to the table, just in case something was to happen.  
“You heard that, right?” Jason asks.  
Grayson hums in acknowledgement and gets off the floor. He’s still wearing his black hoodie, so he isn’t easily visible to the blind eye. Tracking his movements by sound, Jason lowers himself to the ground where Grayson had been sleeping moments before.  
A muffled cry comes from Damian’s room and Jason runs in the direction, following Grayson’s path. Grayson throws the door open and takes cautious steps into the room. The shadow of a large man behind him crosses Jason’s vision. He loops his arm around Dick’s shoulder and forces a white cloth to his mouth and nose. When the man lets go, Jason crouches next to the doorframe as Grayson tumbles to the ground. He distinctly hears another set of footsteps in the room.  
A draft comes from behind him as the whistle of a flying projectile comes straight for him. He flips backwards as he moves away from it. It sticks harmlessly in the wall. He rolls towards the door to take out the man standing there when another whistle comes and the needle embeds itself in his shoulder. The last thing he sees as his vision blurs is the lights flipping on and a large man drags Grayson into the room. Another drags Damian in right behind him.   
………….....  
Grayson groans as he wakes to sore muscles, mostly in his right arm. He looks up at the ceiling, realizing that he is being held up by a chain attached there. Instead of handcuffs on the end holding his arms, it’s shackles. He shifts his weight to his feet and stands, resting his arms.  
Grayson looks around and sees another slumped form hanging a few meters away. “Jason!” he calls. Jason’s form turns in his direction. Grayson looked him over and it appeared that they had given him his fair share while Dick had been out.  
His skin feels cold except for his legs and he realizes they took his jacket and his shirt. They took Jason’s too. “Grayson, are you okay?” Jason responds.  
Before Dick can call back, a sharp crack echoes through the warehouse. He looks straight forwards and sees a familiar shape. “Cat woman.” He says.  
Another crack form her whip comes and a duller crack can be heard as it comes into contact with his chest. Grayson grimaces as the bone breaks.  
“Don’t presume to know who I am! You may know what my criminal name is, but it doesn’t matter near as much as what you are about to go through.” The first part had been a hiss, but the second part was more a veiled threat.   
“You might want to consider the fact that if you do anything, Batman is going to come and get you.” Dick responds.  
Her whip lands another score. “Don’t you think I know that?”   
The pain from this hit was multiplied as it broke two ribs; one of them was already cracked from earlier.  
“Hey!” Jason shouts. The woman ignores him. “Leave him alone!”  
“How did you get all of these bruises? And the knife wounds? Would you mind explaining those?”  
Grayson laughs. Even though it hurts his ribs, he laughs. His laugh is dark and almost insane sounding. The sound is so low and creepy, a serial killer would be jealous. Cat woman backs up, eyeing him suspiciously.  
Jason cocks his head to the side as his brother begins to shake with his laughter. “Grayson, are you nuts? Laughing at the woman who’s breaking your ribs is not the greatest plan.” If anything Grayson laughs harder. Jason realizes that Grayson is trying to creep her out. He chuckles to himself.  
“You have no idea how much trouble you’re in.” Dick says darkly.   
Jason winces at the dull pops of dislocating thumbs as Grayson lowers his arms from the shackles. A sound of grunting is heard and Damian runs into their side of the warehouse. He tackles Cat woman from behind as Grayson collapses. Dick crawls to his feet and runs as fast as his beaten body will allow and goes to Jason. When he reaches for the shackles, he recoils so badly from the pain that he drops to the ground.  
A rush of wind over fabric is heard over the ruckus. “Damian, help me with Jason. Let Batman handle her.” Damian growls in protest but he does as he’s told.  
“These are shackles; you have to have the key to get me out Damian. I don't.” Jason scowls, realizing Dick still needs a little help. “Why don’t you relocate Grayson’s thumbs?”   
Damian immediately drops by Dick’s side. “Hold still.” Damian advises.  
“You’ll have to do the same for mine once I get out.” Jason says as the pops are heard. Skip the keys.  
Grayson’s lips begin to drip blood and his head lolls to one side. Grayson barely hears the fight between Batman and Cat woman, but the winner is obvious. He barely feels Damian pop his thumbs back into place. A shadow drifts over his body and a rushed but gentle pair of hands pick him up off the ground.   
………………  
Cat woman runs off and Bruce turns to face the kidnapped parties. As the blonde sinks to the ground, he realizes that the people she kidnapped are his sons. He runs over to them and realizes that Damian is resetting Dick’s thumbs. He takes Jason’s hands in his and relocates his thumbs as well. He looks over Dick’s sunken form and wipes the blood from his lips. He notices two wounds that are stitched and are at least a day old, but he doesn’t mention them and gently picks his son up off the ground.  
He’s heavy with muscle, but Bruce takes no notice as he leads two, while carrying the third of his boys to the Bat Jet. He jumps through the rafters with almost no issue, as if he wasn’t carrying the hundred and ninety pounds of his oldest son. Jason and Damian follow quickly after finding Jason’s shirt and hoodie. He’ll mention the bullet hole in Jason’s side later. He secures his son in the front seat of the jet, while Jason and Damian strap themselves in in the back. Dick becomes conscious again for a moment and Bruce calls Jason up to the front to keep an eye on him.  
“Grayson, stay awake. You have to stay conscious.” Jason urges.  
Dick coughs, causing himself to lose more blood through his mouth. He says okay quietly and Jason sighs in relief that Dick can hear him.  
“How is he?” Bruce asks.  
“He’s alive, but if he doesn’t get help soon…” Jason doesn’t finish his statement. He doesn’t need to. Bruce pushes the jet as fast as it’ll go and in a new record from the heart of Gotham, they reached the manor in about five minutes.   
“Jason. I’m so dizzy that there’s a big chance I might throw up on you.” Grayson groans. Jason laughs at the comment and smiles to himself when Dick offers him a weak one in return.  
Bruce lands the jet and unbuckles Grayson, letting him wrap one arm around his neck for a better hold. He calls to Alfred and takes him to him room, careful not to jostle him too much. Jason follows right on his heels with Damian. He has Jason open the door to Dick’s room and he lays him gently onto the bed. Alfred rolls in his cart of medical supplies with a stoic face. His concern is obvious, but he’s being strong for the rest of them.   
Tim opens the door the rest of the way. “What’s going on?” he asks. He moves towards the bed and sees Grayson there, staring almost at nothing, but when he looks closer, he’s focused on Jason.   
“What happened to Dick?” he asks, sleep evident in his voice.  
“Cat woman kidnapped us.” Jason says.  
“Us?” Tim asks.  
Jason sighs. “Cat woman kidnapped Dick, Damian and I. She had us tortured, but nothing we couldn’t take. Cat woman gave Dick her personal attention with her whip. She broke three of his ribs. Her henchman broke two of my own while he was out. Along with a few bruises. I’ll be fine. It’s Dick I’m worried about.  
Jason hadn’t realized Grayson had heard him. “I’m fine.” He says sluggishly. Jason ushers Tim back to his room then comes back to watch Alfred’s progress.   
About an hour or so later, Dick Grayson is still alive, and his ribs are patched up. Jason had been sitting in a chair next to the bed, but he had slumped forwards and fallen asleep. When he woke up, Dick was petting him like a kitten with an idiotic grin that told Jason he was being annoying on purpose. But, Dick was in a good mood, so Jason withheld from swatting his hand away.   
“Jay?”   
Jason turns his head and hums in question.  
“Thank you for staying with me.” He responds.   
“You have the worst luck. You know you need me around.” Jason chuckles.


	2. One Day, the other Way Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason Todd was given a comm link by Dick. Dick told him that one day it might save his life. Jason claims it would be the other way around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am terrible at description, so don't be afraid to tell me it's the worst organization you've ever heard. It's not the first time, nor will it be the last that I'm told as much.  
> But other than that, enjoy. :)

Dick was out on patrol, and for once he was in a chipper mood. He was focused, and another good thing, his ribs are fully healed. Dick balances easily on a ridiculously small ledge. Since he had been out on patrol, he had stopped two muggings, and stopped a robber from blowing up a bank. Grayson was very pleased that he could be out and about, without his ribs as a hindrance.  
Ever since Alfred had said he was healed enough to train, he had been building back up almost non-stop. When he did stop, it was most likely due to Jason pulling him away to his bed and making him take a break, or hitting him with a tranq dart. The latter, surprisingly, happened the least often.  
His elasticity was better than normal though, and all his training paid off. He sparred with Bruce and almost won, except Bruce pulled a new trick and flipped him onto his back, ultimately winning the match. Jason offered the spar against him and Dick graciously accepted his offer and proceeded to kick his butt. Jason had stared back at him wide-eyed.  
“You’ve never beaten me that quickly.” He had said as he pulled himself to his feet.  
“I’ve never tried.” Dick had responded.  
Jason had gone another round with him, and this time Jason slid out of the way, leaving Dick off-balance. Grayson still won, but it was more evenly matched, as Jason was now matching his speed and agility punch for punch.  
“Good to see you're still in fighting shape.” Dick laughed.  
“Being your nanny for the past five months didn’t keep me from training.” Jason responded.  
Dick had shrugged and headed for the showers. Jason followed him, chuckling to himself and thinking that Grayson’s crazy training had actually been good for him.

Now, Dick was back on the streets, decked out in his suit, senses ready for anything. The linked coms cracked with static for a moment when the Red Hood’s voice came over him.  
“Maybe you should slow down a little. If we’re going to meet up after I’m done with Crime Alley, then either you slow down, or I find less crime. Which do you think is more likely?” Hood rattles off.  
“Or.” Nightwing laughs. “You could speed up.”  
For this statement he earned a grumble as he broke the link on his coms.  
Nightwing continued to push on and he was almost ready to meet up with Jason when a criminal rounded the corner. His first reaction was shock, then contempt.  
“Word on the street said that you were dead. Did the hero need to mend his bones? Because I also heard that the Hood caught you on his territory and he kicked you out with some cuts to remember him by.” The crook laughed.  
“The Hood had some of his own by the time everything was over.” Nightwing lied. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but none of Jason’s broken bones came from him, and neither did the bullet wound.  
The man scoffs and pulls a knife. More guys come out of the shadows with various weapons of the pointy sort. They all circle around him when the first “volunteer” steps forwards. Nightwing delivers a blow to his face that renders him unconscious. When he crumples, the rest of the men come after him. He kicks, spins, ducks, punches, leaps, and never misses, but is also never caught by a blade. When all the men are out for the count, he goes to meet up with Jason.  
When he reaches the meeting place, he still beat Jason. So he waited.  
And he waited.  
And waited.  
Finally, he opens his com link with Jason and asks him if he’s there.  
“Hood, are you there? Hood, please respond.” Grayson commands. He starts to worry. “Oracle, is there something wrong with Red Hood’s com?”  
“Well, there is and it’s probably not good. It has no signal, not a trace of it since a block from the end of Crime Alley. Which is weird, because I can usually find him anywhere on the streets.” She responds.  
“Thanks.” He pulls out his com that’s linked to every Bat in Gotham, and Robin, and puts in his own, that’s linked with Jason.  
“Jason. Jason, are you there?” he asks.  
He hears a rustling for a moment. “Yeah?” he asks.  
His voice is hoarse and weak. He sounds about half awake.  
“Are you alright?” Grayson asks.  
Jason hesitates which gives him away entirely. Grayson sighs and waits for the oncoming explanation.  
“No.” he says finally.  
“Do you know where you are?” Dick asks.  
“No.”  
“Do you even know how you got where you are?” Grayson sighs again.  
“No.”  
“Great. So I have nothing to go on. Were you kidnapped?”  
“You could say that.” Jason responds.  
“What even happened to you?” Dick questions impatiently.  
“Umm. I got clocked in the head with a shovel, and a bat, and a boot.” Jason groans.  
Grayson rolls his eyes. “Just sit tight while I track your signal. Take out your mike until you hear me, okay?”  
“Fine.” Then the link goes out.  
Nightwing shuts his down and puts it in his hidden pocket, about to track Jason’s com. Jason’s just lucky he has a helmet to protect that crazy head of his. A sharp ‘clang’ is heard as a heavy metal object collides with Grayson’s own head and he stumbles forwards, blacking out.

Dick groans and wonders why his head is pounding like a drum. “And your idea of looking for me is getting caught yourself. Great plan, Nightwing.” He hears a voice, and it doesn’t take him long to connect the sarcasm to Jason.  
“You got caught first, Hood.” Dick responds, sitting up.  
“Yeah, well. Now we’re both going to be slaves, yay!” Jason shakes his wrists and they rattle.  
Dick looks at his own wrists, and they are shackled to the wall behind him, Jason’s match.  
“Slaves?” Nightwing glances at him.  
“Yes slaves. Just please tell me this is not going to end up just like the dancers in Jabba the Hut’s lounge.” Jason shudders with the bad picture.  
Dick glances at him with a look that says ‘Really’. When Jason sees the look he raises an eyebrow.  
“Do you want to know something funny?” Jason asks.  
“Not really, no.” Dick answers.  
“The guys here were so frustrated because they couldn’t get my helmet off. It wouldn’t help anyway. I would still have had my domino mask underneath.” Jason shrugs with a grin.  
Dick is just glad that his own mask is still on.  
“What are we being used for as slaves again?’ Dick asks.  
Locks that must be huge slide open and the door swings wide. “You are going to work for us.” The man who stands at the entrance clasps his hands together.  
“Over my dead body!” Jason shouts.  
“No. I’m afraid that that’s not quite right. If you don’t work for us, it will be over his dead body.” He points to Dick with a long bony finger. “And vice versa.” He gestures from Dick to Jason. “We’ll leave you to make your decision.” He closes the door and the locks slide back into place.  
“We need to get out of here.” Jason growls at the door.  
“Even if we got out of these shackles, how are we supposed to get out? There’s no windows.” Dick asks.  
Jason knows it’s true, and without the door open, it’s awfully dark, which isn’t a problem, because of the night vision in their domino masks. Dick shifts his hands to his temples.  
“My head hurts.” He complains.  
Jason rolls his eyes. “Like you haven’t had worse.”  
Dick nods and tilts his head back, resting it against the brick wall. “You know they only took both of us so they could use us against each other, right?”  
Jason nods and copies his position, bracing himself. Sharp cracks follow his movement. Jason grimaces, but pulls his hands free on the cuffs. He shows his hands to Grayson, who takes his hands.  
“I’m going to pull them back into place on 5, okay?” Dick asks.  
Jason nods briefly, relaxing his muscles.  
“1. 2. 3.” Dick pulls on his thumbs, snapping them back into place.  
“What happened to 4 and 5?” Jason asks, rubbing his hands.  
“4. 5.” Dick finishes.  
Jason shakes his head and readies himself to help Dick with his own. Dick’s pops are smaller, almost stealthy, if joints popping out of place have such a quality. Dick winces when he pulls his hands out of his cuffs. Jason takes Dick’s hands and doesn’t even tell him he’s going to do it, he just pulls his thumbs, and they go back into place with a sickening crack. Dick leans back against the wall and groans.  
“Does this seem to be a reoccurring theme to you?” he asks, standing up.  
Jason chuckles. “Yes, yes it does.” He stands too and pulls his knife.  
“Where did you even get that?” Dick asks.  
“If I told you, you wouldn’t want to use it.” Jason smirks. “I’m kidding. I got it out of my boot.” He opens the blade. It’s the same encrusted knife Dick had used to pull the bullet out of Jason’s side.  
Dick and Jason turn on their night vision and examine the door. It doesn’t look rusted or anything, so Dick takes a chance.  
“Jason, push the door up towards the frame.”  
Jason doesn’t protest, he just does as he’s told. Grayson takes the knife and wedges it under the hinges. The slide bolts are easier to take out than the screw-on hinges. He pushes the bolt up and it slides smoothly. Jason groans.  
“You are not making this any easier.”  
“Get ready to let go.”  
Jason’s breaths become labored when Dick’s pulls the second bolt. “Let go and move to the side.” Dick commands. Dick moves to his right and Jason to his left, and the door falls back in between them.  
“That was loud. Do you think they heard it?” Jason asks.  
Dick shakes his head. “I’m not sure, but let’s get out of here.”  
Jason huffs and picks up his helmet.  
The corridor winds, but it never splits off in other directions. Jason nearly trips, but Dick catches him and they keep going. They emerge from the tunnels into a warehouse. Dick suggests the window and Jason agrees. Dick is in the air when a rope loops around his waist and pulls him back to the ground with a hard tug. He lands on his back with a groan and rolls over. He pulls Jason’s butterfly knife and lashes at the rope with so much force it snaps under the pressure. The man who was pulling on it stumbled back and Dick rolled out of the way.  
Hidden behind some crates, Jason watches as Dick uses leverage and a good vertical to jump from object to object and reach his side.  
“Why did they use a rope?” Dick asks.  
“They don’t want to hurt us remember? They want us to work for them.” Jason answers quietly.  
Grayson jerks back suddenly and Jason turns to see what the matter is. A tall man stands behind Dick with another rope in his hand and it’s coiled around Dick’s neck. Grayson quickly tosses Jason his knife and Jason snatches it. He kicks the man off the platform and uses the force from his fall to help him cut the rope. Dick coughs for a moment after Jason takes the rope off and then they both jump for the window's edge and climb over.  
“It’s a really good thing your butterfly knife is bigger than the normal ones.” Dick says. “You should put your helmet on. You might need both arms.”  
As they scurry down the side of the building, they hit the ground with sequential thuds. They turn around and they both groan. Jason grumbles to himself ‘Sure, one small warehouse wasn’t good enough, now we have to have a small warehouse inside a bigger one?’ Luckily they had come down close to the wall, so they crouched and snuck close to the end of it.  
Jason took something out of his pocket and pulled something out of that yet. He turned back to Dick. “Here, hold this.”  
He hands a small circular ring with a skinny, cylindrical, metal bar attached to it to Dick, and he throws the rest of it at the wall. It sticks. Dick looks down at the object in his hand again. He eyes widen with realization.  
“You keep THAT in your pocket!” Dick asks.  
“What? It’s just a SEMTEX grenade.” He says as it explodes.  
A whole twenty foot section of the wall is blown out, and freedom is only feet away. Jason and Dick leap out of the building and into the sunlight. Jason turns and pulls another grenade out of his pocket and pulls the pin, and throws it on top of a shipping container that says “Hazardous Material”. Then they book it away from the warehouse and back into the streets of downtown Gotham.  
About five seconds away from the warehouse, the SEMTEX exploded, and the chain reaction set the warehouse on fire.  
“Just a SEMTEX grenade!? What if that thing had snagged in your pocket? We would both be dead.”  
They neared Crime Alley and Jason took a sharp turn towards Bludhaven, going to Dick’s apartment.  
“But it didn’t.” Jason counters.  
Dick rolls his eyes, and for the next few minutes, in which they find a way up to the rooftops, stop yet another mugging, and stumble in through Dick’s window. Dick doesn’t reach the couch; he just collapses on the floor.  
“Really? You couldn’t walk another two meters and do that on the couch?” Jason smiles.  
“I’m exhausted.” He flops a hand over his eyes and groans.  
Jason laughs and drags him to his room by his ankles. “You’re not exhausted, you’re dead weight.”  
Dick pulls his legs out of Jason’s grasp and walks the rest of the way to his room and practically dumps himself on the bed, out on contact. Jason laughs and lies down on the couch, his body automatically shuts down and he falls asleep.  
…………..  
Dick wakes up the next day and walks into his kitchen, like he does most mornings. He pulls his cereal out of his cupboard and grabs a bowl and a spoon. He goes back to his room to change into normal clothes before he starts his day. He walks out into his living room and almost has a heart attack when something on his couch moves, and that’s before he remembers that Jason had come home with him.  
Dick walks over to Jason’s side and shakes his shoulder. “Jason. I’m pulling out breakfast now, so if you want food, come to the kitchen, otherwise you’ll have to scavenge while I’m gone.” His voice is hoarse from the rope.  
Jason groans and rolls over. “Fine.” He takes Grayson’s extended arm and pulls himself up. He follows him into the kitchen like he’s on a lead rope. He sits down at the table and watches Grayson pull out more stuff for him. He notices the red marks on Dick’s neck and shifts so he faces him.  
“How’s your neck?” He asks.  
“Sore.” He responds.  
Jason nods and sits idly in his chair while Dick pours him a bowl of cereal. “Bruce must have been shopping for me.” Dick says as he pulls fresh milk out of his fridge. It's organic. “Maybe Damian.”  
Dick sits down at the table and pours cereal and milk into his bowl, then passes the jug off to Jason. Jason is still half-asleep so he ends up dripping on the table before he hits the bowl. Dick finds a wash cloth and wipes it up while Jason eats. This is the second time in as many visits that Dick has fed him breakfast. At least this time, neither of them is hurt, for the most part.  
“And your back?” Jason asks. “You landed on it pretty hard.”  
Dick shrugs, so it must not be too bad.  
“How’s your head? You said that it hurt earlier.” Jason continues.  
“It’s not bad actually. Why are you so worried about me all of a sudden?” Dick looks him in the eye.  
“Just wondering.” Jason finishes his breakfast and this time, he takes the bowls to the sink and puts the milk away.  
Dick laughs. “It’s alright to say you care, you know?”  
Jason nods. “It’s your job to be the emotional wreck that is Dick Grayson. The rest of us just aren’t that way.”  
Dick looks at him with a wide grin. “One of us has to be or else we would never know how the other is feeling. Though, you’re not really that hard to read when it comes to knowing how you feel.”  
“How am I not?” Jason shoots back.  
“You do realize that the ‘Red Hood’ is built on the main idea of being angry and hating everyone, right? That’s why you fit the bill so well.”  
“Hey! I don’t hate everyone.” Jason objects.  
“Fine, not everyone. Just most people. And I think that if you weren’t emotional, I wouldn’t know that you were really planning on punching me by just the look on your face right now.”  
Jason has to admit that he’s right. The thought of pouring out his heart to someone makes him feel like punching someone. And if Dick just happens to be in the vicinity, oh well. “Fine, but you can’t tell me that being basically your nurse for those five months made me a happier person.”  
“Not really, no. if anything, I think it just made you angry to have to be around everyone all the time. But I also think that you enjoyed Easter while you were there. So you can’t tell me that you hated every moment.” Dick crosses his arms.  
Dick rubs the side of his neck where rope burn is starting to turn red and irritated and Jason gets up and checks it out. The area where he’s rubbing looks to be the worst of the damage. There’s a small patch of his skin missing and the area around it is all scratched up. Dick grabs Jason’s wrist as he runs a cautious finger over the wound.  
“Don’t.”  
“Don’t try to help you?” Jason responds, surprised.  
Dick shakes his head. “Don’t touch it.”  
Jason rolls his eyes and goes to Dick’s bathroom, grabbing a patch of gauze and a cool wash cloth with rubbing alcohol on it. Dick is putting the cereal away when Jason walks back into the room holding his supplies. Dick turns and sees him standing there. His eyes shift to the objects in his hands.  
“Jason, I can seriously take care of myself.” He moves to leave the area, but Jason blocks him off.  
“Sit. Down.” Jason tells him.  
“And if I don’t?” he asks, crossing his arms again.  
Jason grins. “I’ll make you.” Jason takes a step towards his older brother, almost threatening him.  
Dick relents with a sigh. “Whatever.”  
He sits down in one of his kitchen chairs and tilts his head to the side, waiting for Jason to do his worst. Jason chuckles to himself, as Dick doesn’t know that the cloth has alcohol on it. He gently presses it against Dick’s skin and waits for his reaction. When it doesn’t come, Jason puts his left hand on Grayson’s right shoulder while still holding the cloth in the left side of his neck with his other hand.  
Dick’s head lolls forwards and Jason realizes just how tired his brother might be. He picks his head up after another moment or two and smirks.  
“That stings.” He mutters, his voice gravely.  
Jason laughs. “Just a few more seconds and I’ll leave you alone.” Jason peels the cloth away and presses the gauze on afterwards, making Dick hold it so he can find something to hold it with. He looks around and finds some tape, and securing the gauze on his brother’s neck, he lets him go. Dick stands up and moves towards the door. Jason hadn’t noticed until now, but Dick is wearing his hoodie and his running shoes.  
“Hold up a minute.”  
“What now?” Dick turns questioningly.  
“Give me a sec and I’ll come with.” Jason quickly moves to the couch and grabs his boots.  
Dick dashes off towards his room and comes out with another blue hoodie.  
“Don’t you ever get tired of buying the same hoodie over and over?” Jason asks while pulling his boots on.  
“I didn’t buy this.” Dick explains. “Dad got them for me. The way we’ve been going through them, I think that that’s a good thing.”  
Jason takes the hoodie and slips it on in trade of his leather jacket. He follows Dick down the stairs, which he seems to be taking a little faster than the last time. This must be what he runs like normally. Dick sets an easy pace, and Damian meets them along the way once again. They actually complete the run without issues this time. Damian had come back to Dick’s apartment with them for some weird reason.  
It’s only when they reach the apartment that they have issues. Damian yelled at Jason for being irresponsible because he left his boots in the middle of the living room where Damian had tripped on them. Things escalated from there and Jason ended up pinning Damian against the wall threatening the break his arm in the end. Dick had intervened and there was no arm-breaking.  
“Why can’t you two ever be in the same room for more than five minutes without killing each other? Is there some kind of law I don’t know about that sets you against each other with zero provocation?”  
“Probably.” Jason snickers.  
Damian makes his ‘Tt’ sound and half-smirks. “Is there a rule that says I have to get along with him?”  
“Really, Dick. We don’t have to get along to at least co-exist. And besides, if we didn’t pick on each other, we would have to pick on you, or Tim, but Tim would be no fun. What do you think, Damian? Wouldn’t we have to pick on Dick?”  
Damian nodded and his smirk turned into a grin. “Well, I don’t know.”  
Dick eyes both of them suspiciously. He had made them sit at his kitchen table and work it out, but this was not what he had pictured. Damian and Jason look at each other again and Dick almost panics.  
“Get him.” Jason says firmly.  
Damian and Jason round the table quicker than Dick can run away. Not to say he didn’t try, but Jason caught him by his hoodie and yanked him back.  
“No. Let me go!” Dick struggled against Jason’s grip, but his grasp was already too strong as his strong arms wrapped around his middle.  
“Nope, you said that you wanted us to get along, and this is how it’s going to happen.” Damian scowls happily.  
Damian tackles Dick and they stumble to the floor along with Jason because he was holding Dick’s jacket. Damian and Jason pin him with a little effort and he struggles to get up. His breathing turns heavy when Jason tells Damian to settle on top of his chest and he actually does it, with a huge grin on his face. Dick groans.  
“Damian, you’re getting too heavy to do that.” Dick wheezes under the pressure.  
“Would you prefer it if I sat on your chest, Dick? Do you need a breather?” Jason asks.  
“No, I don’t need a breather, but Damian, you are heavy, and Jason, you are not helping.” Dick gasps.  
Damian gets up at that and Jason relents to Dick’s pleas also. “Oh, you make things boring, Dick. Why can’t we tackle you and not get in trouble?” Damian asks.  
“Because two against one isn’t fair.” Dick says, getting up off the floor.


	3. Getting Along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pneumonia brings the family together. Sadly, all it took to get along was for someone to almost die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'll admit to this whole thing being really dramatic. I also think that this is a short chapter. Oh, the shame.

“Alfred! Dick is stealing all of your cookies!” Jason shouts from the kitchen.  
Dick takes another cookie and disappears into the main room when Alfred walks in.  
“Dear Master Jason, I hope you are not yelling across the house to falsely accuse your brother when he’s nowhere in sight.”  
Jason turns back to the kitchen and scowls, seeing it empty. “He was just here, Alfred.”  
“Might I ask, young lad, how old we are to be accusing Master Dick of theft in the first place? Master Dick is no thief.” Alfred chastises.   
“He is when you can’t see him.” Jason mutters. He thinks back to Dick pulling out the second cookie.  
He comes to his conclusion and it makes him mad.  
Sleight of hand. Dick put the cookies back when he closed the lid on the jar, using the ‘theft’ as a distraction. Jason grumbles under his breath as Alfred leaves the room. Alfred’s right; Dick is no thief, but he will get his brothers in trouble for fun.  
It shouldn’t anger him as much as it does. It’s petty. The thing is, is that Dick gets him in trouble all the time. Damian even helps sometimes. For a long time, they’ve been spending time at the manor. If there was ever a time for it, it was in the winter. It’s always warm.  
A day passes, in which Dick left him alone, and he finds it dull.   
The next day as Jason rolls by Dick’s room, he hears a harsh cough. It sounds painful, hoarse. Jason stops and listens for more coughing. What acts as an inhale is a gasping wheeze, and more coughs follow. When he thinks about it, he hasn’t seen Dick all morning.  
He hadn’t really thought about it yesterday, because sometimes he isn’t all glommy. But actually, for the past couple of days, he’s kept his distance. Jason opens the door slowly and comes to a sight that startles him. Dick is slouched next to his bed tilting his head back and looking miserable. He looks pale with sickness, but he also looks as if he isn’t getting enough air.   
Dick coughs again, lurching forwards. Jason rushes in when he wheezes, taking in almost no air. Jason pulls his upper body upright, trying to help him breathe. Jason has to resist the urge to panic, for the thought of having to shove tubes down his nose to help him breathe enters his mind.   
“Alfred!” he calls. “Help!”  
He prays that he was close enough to hear his cries. As if an answer, Bruce comes through the door and takes a moment to examine the scene.   
“Bruce, a little help.” Jason ushers him over.  
Bruce kneels next to his sons and asks what he can do. Shortly after, Alfred comes in and sees Dick lying there.   
“Oh my, Master Dick.” He says as Dick coughs again. “He needs a hospital.”  
Damian rushes in and looks at the three men around Dick. He approaches slowly, as if having trouble walking and he collapses next to Dick on Jason’s side. Jason looks up at Damian to see his face and it’s streaked with tears. It’s as if just the sight of his big brother in that condition had hurt him. Jason had been startled at first and he himself now felt on the verge of tears.  
Dick lurched forwards again with his lack of air forcing him to choke. Bruce gestured for the boys to move back and he rolled Dick onto his stomach. How could he hide this from us? Jason thought angrily. For all Jason knew, Dick had thought that he was fighting a common cold.  
An hour later.  
Dick is lying in a hospital bed, and Jason’s little nightmare had come true. Dick has tubes going down his nose. The doctors set to work at siphoning out as much liquid from his lungs as they could. They had said that if Jason had found him any later, he probably would have died. Jason sits the closest to the hospital bed with his hand holding his older brother’s.   
It felt like he had been sitting there for hours, waiting for some change after hearing that Dick had gotten pneumonia somehow. He had hardly left the house all winter, except to go patrol Bludhaven at night. And even the cold wasn’t as bad this year as most winters.   
Eventually, Jason scoots his chair as close as he can get it and he falls asleep, resting his upper body on the bed. Bruce comes in through the slightly cracked door and comes to stand behind Jason, then next to him, stroking his son’s hair. He looks on in sadness at the thought that he still might lose a son, even after the doctors had done all they can. He prays that Dick doesn’t die, because if he did, it would probably tear him apart to the point of destruction.  
He can’t break down for the sake of his sons’ hope. If Bruce has any hope for his son, which he does, he’s going to hold on for dear life. A nurse knocks on the door frame and Jason’s head shoots up.  
“Yes, nurse?” Bruce asks.  
“I’m afraid there’s not much more we can do. We’ve given him as many antibiotics as we could and siphoned as much of the liquid as possible, but until he wakes up, his immune system will have to fight it itself. When he wakes up though, his lungs will help to expel most of the mucus.” She responds sadly. “I’m sorry. If it had been discovered sooner, he would have better chances, but I’m sure he’ll pull through.”  
Bruce knows she’s trying to give them hope by using words like ‘when’ and ‘until’, instead of words like ‘if’ and ‘maybe’. “Thank you.”  
She nods to him and quietly leaves. Jason’s posture sags and he drops his head back into the blanket where he had been resting on Dick’s side before. Damian comes into the room and stands on Jason’s left. He touches Jason’s shoulder and Jason lifts himself off of his brother’s side to look at Damian. Damian responds by wrapping his arms around Jason’s neck.  
Tears begin to silently drip onto Jason’s shoulder as Jason’s wraps his arms around Damian. Even Tim walks in eventually and Jason’s pulls him into their hug. Bruce’s heart breaks a little for two reasons. Jason and his brothers are putting aside their differences to provide comfort, and to see the three of them so sad for the same reason.   
Even throughout the embrace, Jason had never released Dick’s hand, and Bruce let a small smile form on his lips. He makes a silent plea for his son to make it. If only he would wake up.   
A couple of days pass by and Dick is still holding on by a thread. Jason has barely left his side and Damian has been the same. Tim has been taking care of them when he can, but he says that someone has to be out patrolling. Bruce had responded with the fact that Barbara could have her girls out on patrol for them, but Tim was stubborn so Bruce let him go. He was too tired to fight with his son.   
Jason is sleeping next to Dick again, and Bruce wants to remember this so he takes a quick picture with his phone. Damian is also in the picture because after the first day, the nurses noticed how at least one brother was with Dick at all times and they brought in another chair. Damian was on the other side of the bed, also sleeping. Jason on the right, and Damian on the left.  
……………  
Bruce had left for the first time since, four days ago now, Jason thinks. Or had it been five days? Jason didn’t know, but it was also the first time in a few days he had been alone with Dick. “Dick, you have to hold on. You have to come back to us.” Jason whispers. “You lost me once, and when I came back I almost killed you. But you never cared.” Tears begin to slide down his cheeks. “You brought me back and helped me find semi-sanity. It’s not fair that I have to lose you now.” Jason rests his head on Dick’s side again, the way he had been doing for days, crying quietly.  
“You haven’t lost me yet.”  
Jason looked up to see Dick’s face and a smile played across his lips. A small cry escaped Jason. It was supposed to sound joyful, but he supposed with the tears and the fact that he hadn’t spoken for the past two days, it sounded anguished.  
Dick reached for his face and wiped his tears. “Shh. Don’t cry Little Wing. It’ll be okay, you’ll see.” Dick wiped his thumb over Jason’s cheekbone again as more tears dropped from Jason’s eyes.  
Jason wept silently for the most part. “Please stay with us.” He whispered quietly.  
Dick only nodded and returned to his former state of sleeping. The only difference was that instead of a hole that had steadily been growing for feeling loss, was shrinking very rapidly until it was gone. Jason rested his head on Dick’s side for a moment, then Bruce walked in.  
“Jason, are you okay?” he asks.  
He cups his son’s face in his hands. Jason just cries. “Dad, he was awake.”  
“Jason, are you sure?” Jason knew he didn’t want to put out the single glimmer of hope that there had been for the past few days, but the mind sees what it wants to see, and Jason knew that. But there’s no doubt in his mind that what he saw was reality.  
Jason nods with a smile, tears of joy still falling steadily. Bruce began to tear up as well as he looked at his son with fierce love. “I love you all so much, and I don’t want to lose one of you ever again.”  
These words are close to home for Jason, because Bruce had lost him once, and it had taken Jason a long time to see how much that had affected him. Jason cried harder. It felt like he had been holding them back every day that they had been in the hospital, and Dick waking up had opened the flood gates. Bruce pulls him up and hugs him tightly and Jason, for the first time in a long time, wraps his arms around his father.   
Jason muffles his new sobs in his father’s shirt. Bruce gives him a good squeeze then lets him sink back into his chair. Jason begins to laugh. Damian comes through the door and sees the sight. Jason’s tears and the laughing makes him look at Dick to see if he’s still alive. He looks the same.   
“Damian.” Jason says in between a breath. “Dick was awake.”  
Damian gasps. “Really?” he says so hopefully, he feels that maybe it’s too good to be true.   
Jason nods and laughs again.  
About three hours later Tim comes in. Since then, the tears had long since stopped, though Tim spared a few when he heard the news.   
The next morning, after Dick’s vitals had all strengthened and they had been able to drain more of the liquid from his lungs. Jason sat alone next to Dick again, holding his hand like most days; and like most days, sleeping.  
A voice, that cracked when he spoke at first, brought him to consciousness. “Rise and shine, Little Wing.”  
“Hey, Big Wing. You doing alright?” Jason looks up and smiles.  
“I may not be able to fly yet, but I can spread my feathers if you’d like.” Dick smiles.  
The tubes had all been removed when Dick had started breathing on his own again and Jason had been glad. He didn’t like seeing the tubes because they made him fear that the happy moment he experienced when Dick woke up was a dream.  
Dick groaned.  
“Are you okay?” Jason asks immediately.   
“I have a headache.” Dick reaches a hand up and pinches his nose.   
“You’ll be fine.” Jason muses.  
Dick nods. “Will you help me sit up?”  
Jason stands up for what feels like the first time in days, even though he stood yesterday with his father, he’s pretty sure that Bruce was holding most of his weight. He almost fell, but braced himself on the edge of the bed.   
“Are you okay?” Dick asks soon after.  
“I didn’t stand much while you were out.” Jason explains.  
Dick nods again and Jason helps him sit up in his bed. “I’m hungry and thirsty. I feel like I haven’t eaten for a week.”   
Jason gives him a serious look. “That’s because you haven’t”  
Dick sobers. “How long have I been here?” he gives Jason a questioning look and shifts so he sits up straighter.   
“You and I have officially been here for a week now.”  
“You’ve been here all week?” Dick smiles and Jason braces himself, because he just gave Dick all the ammunition he needed.  
“Yes, I have. But quite thankfully, I’ve actually eaten.” Jason smiles back.  
“You’ve been here all week and you’ve also said that you hadn’t stood much in the past week, which means you haven’t moved, which means you stayed with me.” Dick says quietly. A wide grin comes across his face. “I knew you cared!” he laughed.  
Even though he sounded a little congested still, it was good to hear him laugh. “Of course I care. I wouldn’t be a very good brother if I didn’t care.” He hugs Dick and Dick hugs him back with as much strength as his weakened system could muster.  
“Thank you.” Dick smiles.  
“No problem, Big Wing.” Jason pulls back when the rest of the family comes through the door.  
Damian jumps in the air with a whoop of joy as he flies at Dick. He hugs him tightly and Dick smiles contentedly.  
“Dick, it’s good to see you awake.” Bruce says as Damian releases him from his death grip.  
“It’s good to be awake, Dad.” Dick smiles, his blue eyes shine with happiness.  
Two days later.  
Dick is released from the hospital and he walks out of the building with a smile on his face. The reporters are all lined up and gathered to ask Bruce about the miraculous recovery of his son. Bruce asks them to leave rather nicely and they back away, but they don’t leave. Dick just smiles his good-natured smile and keeps walking. Jason shakes his head and smiles too. Even though to the public eye he’s always been a brat, for this once, he smiles at the cameras. They don't really know who he is anyway, because he died. They don't know who he is, but they're more interested in Dick so they don't care.  
Tim follows shortly behind, and even though he loves to be a center of attention for the press, he says nothing. Damian stands right next to Dick on his left and even he’s in a good mood. His black hair and blue eyes that match so closely to Dick’s and Bruce’s that it’s believable that they could truly be kin. Even though Jason had died his hair black, all except for his white streak, and his eyes held the same intense stare that theirs did, the people still remembered that he was a street urchin. Well, they would. If they knew who he was.   
Jason has to keep reminding himself that no one knows him here anymore.  
Tim was another matter. They know that Tim still has a living family, but they couldn’t keep him around or wouldn’t and his blue eyes are more dull and the resemblance is not as strong. Though his black hair made him look more to the part, it still didn’t match.  
Damian stands tall on Dick’s left, though his head is only just above Dick's waist. Dick steps into the limo and scoots over for Jason, who had been standing on his right to get in, then Damian, and then Tim. Bruce stepped in after all of his sons were in the car and then Alfred dutifully drove them away from all the ruckus.   
When they reached the manor, the family stepped out of the car. Dick was last out, but Jason had stayed at the door in case he needed a little help. Dick got out without an issue and it made Jason glad. Seeing Dick so close to death was almost unbearable and it was good to see that he wasn’t going to lose him yet.  
When they got into the manor, Dick immediately treaded up the stairs. This time Jason followed him. He wasn’t about to risk finding him nearly dead again.   
“Why are you following me?” Dick turns when he reaches his door. “You don’t have to worry. They would never have released me from the hospital if I wasn’t well enough to go.”  
“No. I do worry. And I’m only going to say this once, and it’s only for your sake that I do. When I found you in your room, barely breathing, it scared me, nearly to death. I was so afraid that I was going to lose you. It only got worse when you were in the hospital, because I started to feel the loss before it happened and it filled me with dread. I didn’t talk for two days. I didn’t eat.” Dick’s face takes a worried expression. “I felt like I was losing you before I actually did. Those last couple of days before you woke up, you were barely hanging on. When you woke up, that hole that had been growing disappeared.” Jason was on the verge of crying again and he turned away.  
“Jason, I never wanted you to worry. That’s why I didn’t tell you that I felt sick in the days before. I didn’t even tell Bruce and that was hard to keep from him, being the world’s greatest detective and all.” Dick took a step forwards and when Jason didn’t move Dick wrapped his arms around Jason. Dick smiled when the hug was finally returned.  
They stood unmoving for a few minutes. Dick could feel the shoulder of his shirt becoming damp. It only made him sad and his eyes began to drip. He never ever wanted Jason or any of them to worry, and in the end, they had all worried. It had almost taken Jason into a whirlpool of sadness, and that made Dick sad as well.   
When Dick pulled away, Jason was smiling. Dick moved into his room slowly, waiting for his other brothers to jump on him. When the entourage didn’t come, he was surprised. Jason smiled at the fresh sheets on the bed.  
“Not exactly what you expected, was it?” Jason asks.  
“I’m not quite sure that that’s a bad thing.” Dick smiles.


	4. When Birds Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason cuts down on his amount of safe-houses around Gotham. Considering he's infringing upon both Bruce's and Dick's territory, he supposes it's a good idea. But apparently there's a cost to spring cleaning.

Dick and Jason along with Damian and Tim leap down the streets of Crime Alley. Jason doesn’t even pause as they pass by one of his old safe houses. Dick, on the other hand, jumps through the open window. Jason didn’t really remember leaving it open, but hey, he’s been living at the manor again for some time now.   
Dick looks around and sees a few things that Jason might want. Jason just stopped outside the door to see what he came back with, anything that was of any worth, that is.   
Dick rummages through the cupboards and the single dresser. He found a silver switchblade, a glock (which he left), about seven throwing knives, a rather large handgun (which he also left), and he found underneath Jason’s couch cushion a ridiculously large knife with a carved handle. It looked custom because it had a snake cut into the hilt.   
He came out through the door and showed Jason his spoils with a wide grin. He didn’t show Jason the snake-handled knife at first. Jason grabbed the switch and the throwing knives. He shows the biggest blade to him and his eyes widen.  
“Where did you find that?” he asks.  
“I found it under the couch cushion.” Dick says.  
“I had so many safe-houses, and stayed in different ones practically every night, I thought I lost this.” It seemed so unlikely to Jason that he would ever find it that he was actually thrilled.  
“Just promise me you’ll only use it for self-defense and I’ll let you keep it.” Dick chuckles.  
“You can’t take my own possessions from me. I own this knife.” Jason slides it into his belt.  
Jason didn’t think he’d find that much of his stuff, but he also knew that there was at least one gun in each safe house. So Jason is unsurprised when Dick doesn’t return with one. Jason doesn’t even feel the urge to go in and get them. He's just getting the important stuff to take back to the manor. The rest can stay for when he uses the place.  
Dick realizes that Damian and Tim went on without them and he pushes Jason to catch up. Dick and Jason find Damian fighting off a few thugs down the street and he doesn’t look like he needs any help. Damian knocks the last one out and joins them. They find Tim dodging combatants on the rooftop of a four-story building. The other three had used the fire escape to reach him.  
Jason kicks a man in the chest and flips backwards off of it. Dick and Damian double-team a guy, confusing him enough that he gives up. He drops his weapon and backs off. Then they split up and Dick sweeps a man’s legs out from under him and moves to the next guy.  
A sudden shout erupts from nowhere. Three brothers turn and see a huge man with a knife to Damian’s throat and he’s pulling him towards the edge of the building. The man threatens to throw him off if they come any closer.  
Jason moves closer to Dick and the man does nothing considering the fact that he wasn’t moving forwards. “I’m going for Damian, you distract the guy.”  
Dick nods and starts trying to talk the man into giving up. Jason doesn’t think that a man whose muscles are three time the size of Dick’s own is going to back down. Dick just keeps his attention off of Jason while he closes in.   
In a sudden flash of movement, Jason leaps for Damian. The man turned and threw Damian over at the same moment. Jason latches on to Damian and falls with him. Dick sprints to the ledge, knocking the huge man out in one furious punch to the face.  
Dick looks over the ledge as Jason drops Damian onto a second-story balcony and Damian grabs his arm, catching him. Jason shouts at the jarring movement to his arm. Damian’s grasp slips and Jason holds on by his fingertips. Tim joins him at the ledge as their hold fails and Jason falls to the ground two stories below, landing face down.  
Dick screams at the same time as Tim and Damian.   
Jason hits the ground with a sickening thud and Dick looks away. Tim turns around and walks a couple of feet away and throws up. Dick uses the fire escape as quickly as he can and reaches Jason’s side. Dick’s eyes well up with tears and he lets out a moan that sounds detached. He sits on his knees and cries. He looks at Jason and then notices something about the ground around him.  
The dust from the alley seemed to turn light red and floated around Jason’s shoulder blades and his own. The rest of it floated skywards and enveloped Damian’s shoulders and more floated higher, as if escaping. It wrapped around Tim, who was now looking over the ledge again. Dick looks back to Jason and the dust forms folded wings. The red turns darker and the wings spread; and disappear.  
Tim and Damian come down to ground level and kneel next to Dick.  
“Nightwing, what just happened?”  
“I think we're crazy.” Dick whispers.  
A grumble interrupts the quiet that follows. “Ow.”  
“Hood!” Dick shouts.  
Jason rolls over with a groan. “Help.”  
Dick helps him onto his back. “There’s no hospital around anywhere even remotely close to Crime Alley.”  
“We’ll call a hospital, hide Jason’s helmet and weapons, and keep him alive until they get here.” Tim responds.  
Dick nods. Tim dials the hospital and after a few moments they say they’re going to send an emergency unit. Dick takes Jason’s helmet off and Tim grabs his utility belt. The time stretches to what feels like hours, but truly only half an hour. Jason’s breathing turns to a wheeze and he laughs dryly.  
“I’m sorry. I didn’t try to throw myself off of a building.”  
“No one ever does.” Dick laughs lightly.  
Jason then slips into unconsciousness and the body’s reaction settles in. Jason’s skin begins to feel warm as his fever sets in.  
………….  
Jason’s senses drift in and out of wakefulness. The wail of the sirens gets closer. A cool hand rests on his forehead.  
“He’s warm.” Jason barely connects the voice to Dick. “Don’t worry, Jason. You’ll get out of this. You’ll be okay.”  
Jason believed every word. If Dick was giving him his word, then it would happen. The fact that Dick gave him his word was the only reason Jason let himself sink back into unconsciousness.  
………….  
Hospital, again. Dick sighs in his sleep.  
Dick sleeps soundly next to Jason. Jason rouses to consciousness while Dick sleeps. The pain in his ribs is only a dull ache, but he doesn’t care to upset them. He puts his hand on top of Dick’s head. His hair is soft and cool under his warm hand. To Jason’s surprise, Dick doesn’t wake up.  
Jason smiles at his lack of response. His heavy breaths are still uninterrupted when the door opens. Damian and Bruce stand in the doorway. Damian smiles, but he doesn’t make a sound for Dick’s sake. He approaches the bed and hugs Jason cautiously, mindful of his ribs. The hug is awkward, and Jason had to adjust himself almost sideways.   
Damian releases him and makes his “Tt” sound. “Thank you.” He says quietly.  
“No, thank you. If you hadn’t grabbed me at the second floor, I’d be dead.”  
“If I had held on from the second floor, you wouldn’t be here anyway.” Damian hangs his head, but Jason coaxes him to look up.  
“Hey, hey, hey. None of this is your fault.” Jason slides over onto his back again.  
Damian nods, though Jason can tell that he isn’t convinced. Jason winces as his breath hitches. He can feel his ribs pressing uncomfortably against his lungs. He knows that he’s lucky it didn’t puncture on impact.   
“Come here, kid.” Jason gestures to him and scoots over in his bed.  
Damian moves up onto the bed with Jason and he snuggles as close as he can without hurting Jason. Bruce smiles at the two. Jason wraps his arm around Damian and Bruce pulls up another chair and sits next to Dick, silently, of course.   
Bruce places a hand on his son’s head, knowing full well how tired he is. Dick doesn’t move much, but his head leans into Bruce’s touch.   
“It’s at times like these, when I worry the most about all of you.” Bruce tells Jason quietly as he can, but still loud enough that Jason can hear it.   
“Why?” Jason knows the answer, but he wants to hear it out loud, so he knows it’s not just him that feels like he does.  
“Because I love you, you know that. But also because one of you is hurt when we’re here. And also…” he pauses as Damian shifts, noticing that he fell asleep. “One of you is always spending every waking moment, or sleeping moment in Dick’s case, with the injured kid.” Bruce sighs and lets his hand drop from Dick’s head.  
Dick, who has always been a fan of love in the form of physical affection, like hugs, moves his head in the direction that the hand had gone. Bruce chuckles lightly.  
“Always a sucker for love, huh?” Jason huffs.  
“Always.” Dick responds.  
Jason wasn’t surprised he had woken up with all the extra movement in the room. Dick raises his head and smiles. Jason laughs again as he then nuzzles against his side and rests his head again.  
“Hey, find your snuggles somewhere else.” Jason objects, though half-heartedly.   
Dick laughs, though he’s barely heard considering he’s muffled in Jason’s blanket. Damian must have realized that Dick was awake and he looks up and over Jason side. He rubs his eyes for a moment with a little sigh. When the sigh is fully released, Dick’s head jerks up.  
“There you are.” He smiles his wide grin.  
“Dick.” Damian responds and rubs his eyes again. Dick reaches over the top of Jason and ruffles Damian’s hair. Damian swats at his hand and Dick pulls away, holding his wrist in mock pain.   
“Dad, how long is he going to be in the hospital?” Dick asks.  
Jason looks in his direction and Bruce speaks to him.  
“I heard from the doctors that you didn’t actually break more than one. I heard that you broke one, and bruised the other two.” Bruce responds.  
Jason begins to get excited at the thought of not actually being in as much trouble as he thought.  
“They’ll let you out tomorrow on one condition. The fact that you have supervision at all times. Now Dick, I know what that means. You’ll want to be with him every second of the day, but we all have other things to do, you have a day job, which you’ve only gotten away with skipping it because you told your boss at the precinct you were working in Gotham, which, granted, you are. But you have to check in at some point with him.” Bruce tells him.  
“Dad.” Dick complains. “I have been working, and I told him it might be a little while before I came back to Bludhaven.”   
“I know. But a little while isn’t forever. I want you to stay probably at least as much as you.” Bruce counters. “But you have to go home sometime this century.” Bruce chuckles.  
“But dad.” Dick stretches out. “I want to be home while Jason is.”  
“How about this. You go back to work for a week or two, then you can tell your boss that you need to take a break. He’ll probably agree, considering what you’ve been through recently.” Bruce proposes.  
Dick takes a moment to think about it and he nods. “I’ll be back soon Jason.”  
“I’ll take that bet.” Jason laughs aloud then groans.  
“Go easy, Jason. At least for a little while.” Dick gets up from his seat and grabs his jacket. He leaves the room with a little cheerful wave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the dust has other ideas about Jason dying twice. I'm a hopeless dramatic, not a romantic. I still own nothing, so I suppose life goes on. Yet another short chapter is here and I think this might be the shortest one I have. Maybe. No promises.


	5. A Little Freaked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick Grayson recently had a run-in with the Joker, which leaves him a little shaky. He goes back to work only to find that He hasn't gotten over it the way he thought. Therapy with the Red Hood is helping him pull through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not posting my Joker chapter, mostly for my own sake. It's a little messy and I'd prefer it if I still had a heart at the end of the day.

Dick opens the door to his apartment and finds a sight that startles him and pleases him at the same time. Jason is sleeping on his couch. Why he’s in Dick’s territory doesn’t even cross his mind as he moves to check on him. His breathing is heavy, like it should be, and he doesn’t appear to have any noticeable injuries. Dick pulls a blanket over him, without waking up Jason.   
Dick starts to organize things, and put them back. Dick’s tennis shoes are close to the door, and Jason’s borrowed hoodie hangs over them, next to Dick’s. He has to go in to the precinct. He grabs his jacket and quietly opens the door, leaving Jason to sleep peacefully.   
The ride there on his motorcycle is long, and he doesn’t use his helmet like he should. The wind whips through his hair and he arrives at the station windblown. His hair is a mess, and he gets a few sidelong looks. He smooths it down flat. Return to the life of BDP officer John Blake.  
His boss at the precinct nods at him. “Glad to see you have the chance to actually come in to work, Blake.”  
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ve had a lot of family stuff lately. My brother came home and he was having, let’s just say, difficulties sliding back into routine.”  
He nods. “I understand completely. My daughter just got back from Spain, and she seems to long for the outdoors. She doesn’t seem to enjoy life her as much as she used to.”  
“He’s actually, at home on my couch.” Dick chuckles.  
“Says you.” A voice from behind him responds. Jason’s voice.  
“Jason, did you follow me to work? And I thought you were sleeping.” Dick manages to right himself and to mask his surprise.  
“Yes, and I was. When I had woken up, you had already come and gone. I figured you’d come here.”  
“Well, it is my job on the line if I don’t show up.” Dick smirks.  
“It’ll be my head if I don’t keep an eye on you for the little brother. He almost had a heart attack when he found me on your couch and you weren’t there.”  
“Jason, I’m a cop. I don’t need a babysitter.” Dick scowls.  
“I never said that I would babysit you.” Jason puts his hands up. “I am just checking in, and then I’m leaving.”  
His words sound final, and it sounds like the only reason Jason followed him at all is because Damian was worried. Then again, Damian is always worried even though he knows for a fact that Dick can take care of himself. “I’ll see you later, Jason.”  
Jason turns around and Dick turns back to his boss. He busts out laughing. “Why does your younger brother worry so much? You’re a good cop, Blake. Your brother should think more of you.”  
“I don’t think he can. He’s young, and I get that me being a cop is dangerous, but it’s not as dangerous as other things.”  
“I can think of a couple things more dangerous than this job. Occupations, places, people. There are cars more dangerous than this job, John, if you know what I’m thinking.”  
Dick knew very well that he was talking about the Batmobile. What car in Gotham is more dangerous than that? “I know, sir. It’s no big deal.”  
Dick moves to his desk and finds things exactly as he left them. He finds a ton of case files as the only difference. He picks up the first one. It has a paper in it exclaiming the escape of the Joker from Arkham. Two months. That’s the free time he gets. Two months to catch up. Dick has to stifle an involuntary shiver at the memory of the Joker’s painted smile and the bloody crowbar. Dick is going to get a transfer to Gordon's unit to be closer to home, and they only take the bigger cases. Which means dealing with Arkham and things like that. Yay.   
He looks at the paper, and the photo on the front is of Jason’s back. He’s holding something in his arms, and Dick realizes with a jolt that the thing Jason is hold is a person. It’s him. Jason is holding him in this picture. He tosses the case aside and marks the file as solved. The Joker was apprehended at the scene. Hopefully. He's pulled that move before.  
The next file on his desk was an attempted burglary. Dick flips through it and realizes the file is on the guys that broke into the manor. He flips through a few more files, seeing that they are all Batman or Nightwing or family related. Big cases are going to be horribly personal and hard to work as Nightwing and John Blake.  
“I don’t think I have an unsolved case on my desk.” Dick mutters to himself.  
People stroll by Dick’s desk, chattering to each other on cases that aren’t finished. A new case file lands on his desk as his boss walks by. He doesn’t even look up to know that it’s him. Dick picks up the file.  
‘Red Hood chased out?’ was the headline. Dick shook his head. No wonder Jason went back a week before this paper came out. He knew that the papers would think he had been run out, so he went out to prove the papers wrong.   
“Blake.” His boss walked by again. “I’m putting you on Crime Alley tonight. I know it’s been a little while, and it’s the hardest place, but I think you need an early out from the office.” He looks up this time.  
His boss is smiling at him and nodding in the direction of the door. Dick takes it all in stride, picking up his holster and weapon. He was the top of his class in the firing range, but Dick couldn’t think of a time when he’d ever fired his service weapon on duty.   
Dick takes his motorcycle to a block from Crime Alley. Dick walks up the street, waiting for signs of danger. The first scream he hears comes about five minutes in to the job. He runs down the street, without his gun drawn as the station trained them to do, and rounds the corner.   
“BPD! Put down your weapons.” Dick identified himself. (Bludhaven Police Department)  
The two men that he found standing there whipped around. The trained their weapons on him, glocks, by the looks of them. Their guns fire and he can’t resist the urge to dodge. He uses the alley wall as leverage and flips back to the ground. Dick starts to pull his weapon, but he stops, not able to bring himself to fire it. Two shots ring out and the men drop in front of them.  
“What are you doing here?” Jason’s growly voice erupts from the alley, making him jump out of his stunned state. Jason comes around him to look him over, having seen his reaction. “Are you okay?”   
Dick finally looks at him. Jason’s own weapon is in its holster. “Yeah, sorry. It’s just been a while since I’ve been on the streets.”  
“I’ll say. I usually can’t do that.”  
“Do what?” Dick asks, still kind of confused.  
“Can’t get behind you without you noticing. I almost expected you to duck to make my job easier.”  
“Oh.” Dick waved a hand. “I just, lost my train of thought for a moment.”  
Jason eyed him suspiciously, though it's difficult to tell with the helmet. “You froze.”  
Dick’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t freeze. It’s just been a little while since I’ve been on duty.” Dick tries to reason why he did what he did, but in his heart, he’s almost agreeing. He hadn’t done anything after his flip off the wall. He had just stood there.  
Jason grabbed his arm and pulled him out into the open, showing his mask to anyone on the street. To anyone on the street, it probably looked like the Red Hood was teaching a wayward officer not the step into Crime Alley without his say-so.   
Dick pulled his arm back. “What do you want?”  
Jason turned back to him, confused. “What do you mean, ‘what do I want’? I want to help you. Every time you look at a criminal now, you see the Joker. The exact moment when you could have gone too far flashes in your head and it messes you up. It could get you killed, Dick.”  
Dick thinks back on it. The wide grin and his own rage. Jason stopping him. Dick backs into the alley again, against the wall, bracing himself. Jason follows him, unsure. Images of Jason facing the Joker flash through his mind. He sees his own drugged form at the clown’s mercy. He remembers Jason telling the Joker to let him go, and the shot fired from Jason’s gun. The Joker’s little speech, and his laugh.  
Dick holds his head in his arms, sliding down the wall. “Dick?” Jason’s voice breaks through.  
“I, I remember. That time in between. I remember. You shot at him, and he threatened me.” Dick shakes his head, trying to rid his brain of the threat towards his brother and himself.  
“He threatened you?” Jason’s voice sounds tight, most likely with anger.  
“Close enough. He said that maybe you would stay d-dead this time, or that maybe he would start, w-with me.” Dick stumbled over his own words.  
Jason sat next to him by the wall and put his arm around his shoulder. “Shh. I get that he messed with you. That’s what he does. He gets in your head and plays with you until you break. But you have to ignore him.”  
Dick shakes his head. “I can’t, Jay.”  
Dick is thankful that the alley is dark. It would ruin Jason’s life on the streets if anyone saw the Hood comforting a cop. Jason quietly shushes him again and gives his shoulder a squeeze.  
He breathes slowly for a few moments, trying to get ahold of himself. Dick can hardly believe that he just broke down, in the middle of Crime Alley. The heat in his cheeks tells him that his tears had escaped.   
“I know that he got to you.” Jason tries to reach him through his outburst of fear. “I know how hard it is to face him and then second-guess yourself. I found a way through it, by killing sure, but you have to find your own way. I don’t want you to turn out like me.” Jason feels so much like the older brother right now, it scares him.  
From Jason’s view, Dick looks so small, so lost. With his tears trailing down his cheeks, and the bouts of shaking, Dick looks every bit like the orphan he would have been without Bruce.   
Suddenly it all stops. Dick stops crying, shaking, hyperventilating, all of it. He just leans his head on Jason’s shoulder and hopes to just stay where he is. He doesn’t want to move. “Thank you.”  
“Always, big brother.”  
Dick laughs. Jason could almost jump at the sound, but with Dick, the onslaught of emotion is familiar, constant. Jason stands up and helps him to his feet and Jason is stunned when Dick’s first notion is to hug him. If they hadn’t been in the dark alley, Jason would have pushed him away as if he had burned him. But, in the presence of darkness, he hugs him back.  
“This would ruin me.” Jason said.   
“I know. But no one is here to see.” Dick laughs again.  
“Dick. I have to go keep my territory in check. It’s time for us to part ways. For now.” Jason releases him and Dick straightens out. He smooths down his hair, as if that’ll help much. He’s been crying, and it’s not even obvious anymore. He’s so emotional, when he cries, it doesn’t even show at all. His eyes don’t get puffy or red.  
Jason hadn’t had many instances in which to cry, so it shows if he has. When Dick almost died from pneumonia, he had cried then. He cried a lot. And man, it showed for days. He barely left the house so people wouldn't see.  
Smoothing down his hair seems to help him a little and Dick wanders from the alley. Jason watches him go. He decides he’s going to look out for him today. Even though he had promised. He had told Dick he had checked in with him this morning and then he would be done. Jason was almost sorry that it had turned out to be a lie. Almost.  
Dick jumped from street to street along Crime Alley, waiting for something to happen. Finally, a scream, similar to the one that helped him realize that Jason had come after him, erupts from one street over. Dick books in that direction, hoping to reach it before it’s over. The colors seem to fly by as he sprints to reach it. He still doesn’t pull his gun and runs into the street.  
A thug with a gun is standing over a woman, holding her purse with a gun trained on her. “Drop it! BPD!” Dick called out. Of course, the man turned and pointed his gun at him. Dick raised his hands a little. “You don’t want to shoot at me. Killing a cop will only put you in prison.”  
“If you arrest me, I’ll go anyway.”   
“Just give her the purse back, and I might leave you alone.” Dick pulls back a step and the man throws the purse at the woman’s feet. She takes it and runs off. The man puts his gun away and slowly steps back, as if testing Dick’s word.   
He stopped a kidnapping and a bank robbery later in the afternoon, got shot at again, didn’t freeze up. He felt a lingering presence after that one. Jason, if he had to guess. After he had stopped about six more muggings, and arrested a gang member who decided assaulting a cop (or trying to) was a good idea, he stopped on the street.  
He came back to the precinct and handed in his arrests for the day, his boss looked up at him with a satisfied look on his face. “It may have been a little while, but eleven arrests is pretty normal for you in a day’s work.”  
“They weren’t all arrests. One was a warning, two men died. I don’t call that normal.” Dick frowns, even though receiving praise from his boss was usually a good thing.  
“They shot at you, John. I could only…”  
“It wasn’t me.” Dick stopped him. “It wasn’t me who shot them. The Hood got to them before I could arrest them.”  
His boss seemed to consider this for a moment. “I may not agree at all with him, or his methods…” he leans back in his chair. “I can’t complain if he saves my officers. I don’t suppose there’s any reason that he helped other than out of the goodness of his heart.” The word ‘goodness’ was said with extra venom, and a tone that suggests he’s in deep.  
“The person they were attacking screamed. It might have attracted his attention.” Dick shrugs.  
His boss nods and goes back to his files, silently dismissing Dick. Dick moves back to his desk and settles in his chair. He fills out reports that landed on his desk during the day and leaves them in his out box. He sighs. After a full day on the streets and getting shot at, he’s ready to go home, so he does. He gets on his motorcycle and rides home. He steps off after parking on the street and pauses.  
“You might be stealthier if the person you’re trailing doesn’t have a sixth sense of being followed.” Dick chuckled.  
Silence meets him and he turns around, hearing a gasp. Jason is lying on the sidewalk with a knife in his gut, a pale-faced man standing over him. His crazy laugh turns on him. His promise echoes is ears. Maybe this time he’ll actually stay dead. Dick charges the Joker and knocks him to the ground. His laughter rings in Dick’s ears. In one swift punch, he knocks the Joker out cold. He hears a choking and turns. Jason is lying in a small pool of his own blood, coughing it up. Figures he'd escape before the cops could drag him back, kicking and cackling, to Arkham.  
Dick is about to go to him when he thinks of something. He ties the Joker to the railing of the apartment door. Dick turns around and Jason groans, rolling over. Dick runs to him. “No, no, no, no, no.” he mutters.  
“S-saw him, following you.” Jason explains. “I’m, uh, sorry I-I got stabbed, trying t-to help you.”  
“It’s okay.” Dick takes off his jacket and pulls up Jason’s shirt. Jason groans as Dick’s jacket is pressed against the knife wound. Dick pulls out his phone and calls for an ambulance. “This is Officer Blake, I need an ambulance on 4th and Arbor, downtown Bludhaven. My brother’s been stabbed.” Dick pauses for a moment. “It’s a stomach wound.”  
Dick hangs up the phone and looks down at Jason. The helmet has to go, and the weapons. He disengages the locking mechanism and takes off the helmet, and asking Jason to hold the jacket in place, puts it in his bike compartment. Jason shivers. “Getting cold, Dick.”  
“I know, Jason.” He takes the weapons from his hiding places and takes over holding the jacket again. “Just hold on, please, Jay.”  
“If you let them put me in a hospital gown, I’m going to hit you.”  
“Sorry. But I don’t think that it’s my choice.” Dick tries for a smile, but it falls away all too quickly.  
The sirens begin to wail, and Dick almost shakes in anticipation. Jason trembles with his sudden chill.   
………..  
Jason lies on a hospital bed, his heart monitor beeping slowly, calmly. Dick is leaned up against the bed, waiting, watching. At every sound, he’s ready for anything. His tears fall freely, soaking the area below his face, making Jason’s blanket wet. He doesn’t even realize it, but a hand is stroking his hair, lulling him to sleep. Jason’s arm is lifted, but Dick can’t lift his head anymore. Jason’s soft voice pushes him into unconsciousness.   
When Dick wakes up, the hand is still moving across his head. The gentleness of Jason’s touch is surprising, but Dick doesn’t care.   
“Hey.” Dick’s voice sounds scratchy, even to him. Jason doesn’t speak, just continues to stroke his hair. The feeling of Jason being alive is so comforting, Dick could almost cry out in joy, but he feels too tired. “Jay, are…”  
This time, Jason responds, though not very loudly. “Shh. Sleep, Dickie-bird. Just sleep.”  
Jason’s POV  
Dick just couldn’t seem to fall asleep. He’d been resting his head in the same spot for the past hour and a half, not even realizing that Jason was awake. Finally, he couldn’t let him just sit there anymore. Jason raised his arm and ran his hand over his brother’s hair.   
“You can sleep, now, Dick. I’m fine. It’s going to be okay.” Jason knew that everything was far from okay, but it seemed like the right thing to tell him. Dick’s head rested on the blanket, in his little wet spot of tears. Jason chuckles to himself. He nudges Dick’s head away from the spot, using as little strength as possible. After about another half-hour, Dick asks his name.   
Jason shushes him and tells him to go back to sleep. If Dick asks him if he’s okay, Jason might not have the will to go back to the streets after ‘escaping’ the hospital.   
-Dick’s POV  
Dick wakes up, not being where he expected. He’s in his apartment, lying stomach-down on the bed. The only way he could have gotten there was if someone carried him up the stairs. Dick jumped from his bed. Suddenly chilly, he looked down at his attire. He was still wearing his jeans, but his shirt was in the laundry basket across the room, the white shirt showing Jason's blood all over it. Not enough bleach could ever rid it of that crust of red.  
Dick wonders why Jason seems to be pulling away. He hears something from the living room and he immediately drops into a crouch. He opened his door quietly and crept through his short hallway, keeping to the shadows.  
I light is on in the kitchen and he peers in. Jason. Jason is moving around his kitchen, making something. Dick is immediately upright.  
“Hey, Jay.” Dick says in a chipper voice. Something crashes in the small space. Dick winces. “Oops.”  
“Dang it, Dick.”   
Dick breaks out into a wide grin. He saunters into the kitchen and looks Jason over. He’s covered in a white powdery substance. “It’s your own fault. You were the one who was unprepared.” Dick’s grin widens.   
“I thought you were still asleep.” Jason growls, trying to wipe everything off of himself.   
“What were you even making?” Dick asks.  
“Pancakes.”  
“When did you learn to make pancakes?”  
“I had to eat something, Dick. And although I didn’t take the greatest care in my diet, pancakes were one of the things that I knew how to make.”  
“That wasn’t what I asked. I asked when, not why.”  
“I don’t know, exactly.” He says with a chuckle.  
……….. 3 months later.  
“Are you sure you want to do this, Dick?”  
“I’m sure.”  
Jason and Dick are lined up at the beginning of Bruce’s course. Damian is also standing there, filling out neatly for his young age.  
“Dick, is Jason asking you because this isn’t a wise course of action, or out of concern?” Damian asks.  
“A little of both.” Dick responds.   
“I’m pretty sure that if I can do it, you can do it, Dick. But if you don’t like it…”  
“Jason, you’re thinking too much. I’ll be fine.”  
Jason laughs. “Dick, I think you may have a few wires crossed in that head of yours. I’ve never in my life been accused of thinking too much.”  
“Just start the course.” Dick smiles.  
“Tim!” Jason calls. “Start it up!”  
It takes all of a split second for the swords to come to life. Dick takes off at an alarming speed, straight towards a blade. Jason takes off after him, trying to anticipate what Dick is planning. Dick ducks to the left and almost brushes a point with his thigh, Jason imitates him, keeping low. He can’t hear Damian behind him, so he assumes that he took a different route.  
Dick flips back all of a sudden and Jason jumps vertically as a sword comes up almost directly beneath him. Dick grabs Jason’s shoulder and pulls him to the immediate right about four feet. Jason lets him, feeling the wind rush by over his head. The five meter mark meets them.  
………… 195 meters and a race back to the beginning later  
Jason pants and bends so his hands are on his knees. Dick groans and puts his arms behind his head. Damian also sweats profusely, his breaths coming out hard.  
“Who’s idea was it to race back?” Dick asks. Why does he care? He won.  
“Mine.” Jason raises his hand a little and stands back upright.  
“That was a stupid idea.”  
“I agree. It was illogical to run when we were already weary from completing the course.” Damian huffs.  
Dick treaded forwards towards the door, leading upstairs to the manor. He can hear Jason traveling behind him and barely a hint of a quieter footsteps behind him yet, showing that Damian was following too. Dick moved into the den and settles on the huge couch, on the very end. He’s surprised when Jason sits next to him and Damian sit right next to Jason. Right next to him. Damian has never touched Jason willingly. Dick smiled.  
Dick was, tired, and warm, and surprisingly comfortable buried underneath Jason’s snuggles. He wants to sleep, but he really wants to watch Jason fall asleep. Jason nestles into Dick’s shoulder and Dick turns so Jason’s head is on his chest. Jason falls into a sort of restless sleep. Dick lets him though, because any kind of sleep is good. Jason has been getting more lately, but it’s still not much. Damian falls asleep on top of him and sleeps soundly. Not a surprise.  
Dick leans his head back across the couch, smiling, resting his head for just a moment before he looks up again. He just watches them. Jason looks so young. His brow furrows and he mumbles something. Dick brings his left arm from behind him and strokes Jason’s hair, shushing him. Jason stills, his brow returning to normal.   
Dick watches them for what feels like hours, comforted by their breathing. He finally falls asleep to the sound, the soft smile still highlighting his features.   
………… Tim’s POV  
Tim wanders down the staircase, expecting to see no one. It’s almost three, and he doesn’t hear anything to suggest that someone is downstairs. He walks by the den, but suddenly stops, his mind registering something that he didn’t quite see. Not something he expected to see again soon.  
“They’ve been like that for about eight hours.” Bruce’s voice startles him. Tim jumps as Bruce walks past him, practically gliding. He stands on Dick’s end of the couch.  
Tim approaches, taking it in. Their skin is a warm pink color from sitting in front of the fire. It’s the middle of summer, and these three sleep by the fire. “Even Damian?” Tim is surprised.  
Bruce puts a hand on Dick’s jet black mess of hair. And it is messy, as if he just didn’t even take the care to wash it, brush it, all of the above. Bruce chuckles when Dick doesn’t even react, he just secures his arm more tightly around Jason, who was beginning to shift. Jason stopped moving and nestled into Dick's grasp. Damian, who was under Jason’s arm, also nestled closer.  
Tim looked on at the three, wondering when they all broke down each other’s emotional walls enough to do this. Again. The first time was surprising enough, but to find them on the couch again?  
Bruce ruffled Dick’s hair and turned to leave. Tim barely caught the words, but he still did. “Sleep well, boys. I love you.”  
Maybe Tim was mistaken. Bruce never said words of affection to them, well, not him. But Tim knows for a fact that if Bruce doesn’t love him, Tim wears a bra every day of his life. Bruce looks back on his sons, looming in the doorway for a moment, before moving on.  
Tim waited though, just to see if Dick was truly asleep. Fifteen minutes pass by and nothing changes. It didn’t bother him at all. He liked the fact that they could get along. He knew that forcing himself into Bruce’s life didn’t win him any points with them, so naturally, they were closer with each other than they were with him. Tim eventually left, smiling to himself.   
………. Dick’s POV  
When Dick awoke, he felt kind of smothered at first, but then he remembered the events of last night which led to him and his brothers sleeping on the couch. He stayed still, completely still. He kept his breathing normal so Jason couldn’t tell that he had woken. When he slept, Jason could tell the minutest of changes. It didn’t matter if it was the slightest change in the air current or a small sound from outside. Though it was that way for all of them, being trained by Bruce to mind any and all surroundings, Dick still wasn’t willing to wake Jason just so he could get up and move.  
That and, the physical affection that almost never happens is an upside too.  
“Dick?” Jason asks.  
“Yeah, Jay?” Dick should have known. Jason doesn’t sleep for long anyway.   
“Tim was watching us. Bruce was with him.”   
“I know. I could hear them but I wasn’t paying attention.” Dick had heard muffled words before a gentle pressure on his head let him know that Bruce was touching him. Jason started talking again, but Dick stopped him. “Shh. Sleep, Jason. You need your sleep.”  
“I can’t sleep. I have too much on my mind right now.” Jason mumbles, though his voice is gravelly.  
“But you need to sleep.” Dick argues, quiet, so at least Damian can get some rest.  
“I can’t stop thinking about everything that has happened now that I’ve come back. The first time you started drawing me back, I had almost killed you that night. Then we got kidnapped.”  
“Hey. That wasn’t your fault.” Dick tries to stop him.  
“And then Easter came and you…”  
“Jason, you have to stop. None of that was your fault. I was foolish and tripped up. I was foolish and walked into a room unprepared. And even when you were letting everything out on me that night, it was my own fault because I let you hurt me.” Dick paused for a moment. “Jason, I don’t blame you for anything, because none of it was your fault.”  
Jason is silent for a few moments, but Dick realizes that the silence isn’t going to help anything. He wraps his free arm around Jason and pulls him close. Damian turned over, searching for the mass that had moved away from him. Dick watched Jason grab Damian’s searching arm and pull him up to his side again.  
“Sleep, Jason.”  
Jason’s head presses against his chest again and his soft breathing resumes. Dick falls back asleep too, to the soft glow of the flames. Dick feels old. He’s not that much older than Jason is, but to talk to his brothers the way that they require makes him feel that way. Dick inhaled deeply, not feeling any weight bearing down on him. If he has to provide comfort, or something solid to hold onto, then doing so for his brothers is no problem.


	6. A Favor for Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pain is almost Jason's middle name by this point, and he really doesn't think it can get much worse. Oh, but how wrong he can be. Bruised ribs are lovely this time of year and just what he needed was rebellion as icing on a tall cake. Facing Bruce is never easy, but both boys know that he cares by the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because, why not? If I had been gone for a while and my territory was running without me, people would probably wonder about my ability too. So, here you go. There be traitors in his midst.

Jason had gone back to his territory after a mistake that nearly cost Damian his life. He’d gone back to an old safe house, hoping that it was one Dick didn’t know about. So far, so good. He was bored of sitting around and put his helmet on to go out on patrol. He takes two steps out of his house when shots ring out from nearby.  
After barely a second the bullets strike his body armor. The force of the impact propels him backwards. Jason looks at his armor. Not even dented, thanks to Bruce’s impact tech. At the next shots, Jason rolls to the side and runs in the direction of the sound. He takes an alley to get to a fire escape and climbs it. He reaches the rooftop where his shooter should be and finds him looking through his scope. The impact of the bullets registers and he grimaces.   
Jason comes up behind him, unheard. “If you’re going to kill someone, you should make sure that the person you’re killing doesn’t wear a lot of armor. The man turns around, clearly startled. Jason holds his pain in. The impact tech may help his armor for durability, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. “Today isn’t your lucky day.”  
The man raises his rifle and Jason pulls his gun quicker than he can react to it and fires. The man still gets a shot of that grazes Jason left arm. The man hits the ground, not dead sadly. Jason holds his arm as the pain registers. The sniper disappears as he turns to face men in the shadows.   
“You’re slipping, Hood.” Men come out of the darkness, all holding weapons. “If you keep having this issue, people aren’t going to want your protection anymore. You’ll have to prove to them your intentions.”  
Jason pulls his gun around and shoots them all. The last guy he nearly misses, but Jason double-tapped him. He examines his arm, realizing that it could use stitches. Unless.  
Jason’s vision blurs, causing him to stagger. His left leg gives out from underneath him and he goes down, rolling onto his side. His breathing becomes labored as he blacks out. A familiar form comes to stand over him. Freaking poisoned bullets.  
……….  
Jason wakes to the sound of clattering nearby. He opens his eyes to find that the clattering is in his tiny kitchen and Dick is making something. Jason gets off of his bed and moves closer. A small smile highlights Dick’s face as he mixes something that smells incredibly good. Which is weird, because Dick has never been the picture of fine art cooking.  
“How did you find me?”  
“I’ve been looking for you since you left and that safe house was going to be next on my list. When I heard shots in the roof, I got up there just in time to see you collapse.”  
“Thanks.” Was Jason’s short reply.  
“What else was I supposed to do? Let you die?”  
Suddenly a thought occurred to him. “Did anyone see you help me?”  
“I don’t…”  
“Did anyone see you?” He goes over to his brother and looks him directly in the eye. Dick’s reaction surprises him a little. He shies away from him.   
“No. No one saw me.” Dick finally responds.  
Jason stands there, a little stunned. Dick never moved away from him, ever. “Is something wrong?”  
Dick shakes his head, then resumes his cooking. Jason leans against the countertop, looking him over carefully, judging his options.  
“Dick, what happened to you?”   
“I left home after a fight with Dad.”  
“What happened?”  
“It was nothing at first. I just went down into the cave to suit up, then Dad came down and asked where you were. I told him you went home. He nodded, but then he asked me why and I couldn’t lie to him. I would have never heard the end of it. And after he heard what I told him and knew that we almost got Damian killed. He overturned a table and it caught me on the leg. He looked at me like he was afraid of his own reaction. I just ran out, with him calling after me.”  
Jason looks him over, no seeing any visible indication of his injury. “You said it clipped your leg?”  
“It was last week. It’s almost healed.”  
“But why did you shy away from me?” Jason finally asks his question. Dick just looked at him, as if the question hadn’t made sense. Dick couldn’t seem to pull his gaze away, but he couldn’t find an answer either. “Are you afraid that I’ll hurt you?”  
This time, Dick’s response was immediate. “No.” he wraps his arms around Jason, but it was Jason’s turn to be a little skittish.   
He flinches as Dick’s arms wraps around him, but when he realizes that Dick is in for a hug, he wraps his right arm around Dick. “I’ll never, ever, hurt you. And I’m sure that Dad didn’t try to. If he was actually mad at you, he still wouldn’t have hit you. He’d never hit you on purpose.” Jason lets him go. “Unless it’s in training.”  
“I know. I don’t know what happened. I just kind of, flipped.”  
“You have to go back to him Dick. I don’t know if I’m ready to face him, but having you run away would put him out on the streets more often than not. You have to find him before he drives himself mad.”  
“I don’t know Jay. I don’t know if I could face him with his expression.”  
“What, the ‘This-is-all-my-fault’ expression?”  
“Yes, that one.”  
“I used to love that expression, because I used to love to torment him with his failures.” Jason doesn't really mean to say it, but it slips out and Dick’s face drops. “Dick, I didn’t mean it like that.”  
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just been a rough week. You went off the grid right after, and then I had that not-quite-a-fight with Dad and disappeared too. Damian was looking for me at my apartment. I didn’t come out when he called. He told me that he didn’t blame us, and I know that he doesn’t blame us, but I blame myself.”  
“Dick, it was my wire that snapped. I should have tested it before I let him use it, but even so. You have to find Bruce. If Damian’s out looking for you, Bruce is probably at home. Probably in a state of self-loathing.”  
“If I were with you, could you face Dad?” Dick asks, almost meekly.  
Jason thinks for a moment on it. If Dick were there, it would help Bruce’s anger. “I guess.”  
Dick immediately changes his demeanor and grabs his wrist, pulling him towards the wall. Almost in perfect silence, four shots ring out.   
“How did you know someone was going to shoot?”  
“I saw a black form on the roof across the street.” Dick explains.  
That made Jason glad, because most things depict seeing the glare of the barrel, but the form a person is better and more believable. “Good.” Jason’s arm bounced against the wall as he turned to look up over the window ledge. He bites his bottom lip and groans, pulling back onto the floor.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“I got clipped earlier by the sniper that I shot.”   
“I know, it was poisoned. You alright?”  
Jason nods and grips his arm with his right hand. “Just pulls a little.”  
Jason risks a glance over the ledge again and sees the silhouette that Dick must have seen. Another shot fires and Jason ducks, the shot shattering something through the kitchen wall.  
“I hope that wasn’t important.”  
“Dick, knowing my luck, it was probably something extremely necessary for our survival, I’m sure.”  
Dick nods. “What are we going to do?”  
“You are going to stay right here. I’m going to go keep my territory in check.”  
“What?! Are you serious, you’re going out there?”  
“Dick, you have to trust me.” Jason jumps out of the window and a lot of gunfire suddenly erupts from the street. Some individual shots were fired from a semi-auto pistol. And then it was quiet. Dick waited for what felt like hours for Jason to come back. There were no more sniper shots from outside. Dick gets up and creeps out the door, keeping low. He looks around for Jason and almost thinks he has gone to the rooftop when he sees a crumpled form in the middle of the street.  
“Hood?” Dick asks, coming up on him slowly. He knows who it is, but he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions. Dick is about ten feet away when he groans and rolls over.  
“I’m alright. It’s okay.” Jason props himself up on his arms and pulls his legs underneath him.  
“What happened to you?”  
“I shot the snipers…”  
“Snipers, as in plural?”   
“Yes, snipers. They got a lot of rounds off, and a lot of them missed, but a couple hit my armor. Just knocked the wind out of me.”  
Jason groans as he tries to get to his feet. Dick comes to help him as quickly as possible. “Up, up, up, up. Come on.”  
Jason holds on and lets Dick help him back to his house. “Dick, you need to go. It’s not safe for you to be seen with me.”  
“I’m going to go find Bruce, and then I’m coming back to help you.”  
“What if I’m not here when you get back. I could be running for my life.”   
“Jay, you have your bat earpiece, and you have mine. I’ll find you.” Dick leaves him to catch his breath on the couch and rushes out the side window, immediately merging with the shadows in his black suit.  
Jason leaves his safe house, grabbing all of his necessary things, including his snake-handled knife. His red jade one was in his back pocket and his side-arm was at his hip. He put all of his clips in a bag and slings them over his shoulder. He takes off for another house. It is about five miles to run, but he's fine with it. He goes to the rooftops to get there as fast as possible, without detours. He secures his helmet for the exposed journey.  
He reaches it within an hour. Jason steps into it and tosses his bag aside. For, a moment, he wonders how it’s going with Bruce. Probably hasn’t found him yet. Jason is about to drop a little of his guard when he feels a slight shift in the air. A window opening. Jason crouches low next to the living room wall, waiting for the guy to come in. When he finally does, Jason wraps his arm around his leg and pulls. The man hits the floor.  
“Jason, it’s just me!” he hears a familiar voice. Damian.  
Jason lets him go. “What are you doing here?”  
“Looking for Dick.”  
“He went home, to go find Bruce.” Jason explains, rising to full height.   
“Why are you here?”  
“Because it’s my house?” Jason responds, a little irritated. “Because I have a right to be in the building that belongs to me.”  
“Was that necessary? What’s going on that has your panties in a twist?”  
“Oh, just the fact that I’m gone enough that all the people under my ‘protection’ are getting riled up. They think that since I keep disappearing that they can take back the territory that I’ve taken over.”  
“You’re resourceful, you’ll figure out a solution.”  
Jason blinks at the off-handed comment. “Damian, you have never, ever complimented me before.”  
“I’ve never, ever, been alone in a room with you before.”  
Jason nods, realizing that he had just held up the accusations that he didn’t like him, not that he didn’t. Damian is about to speak when he suddenly rams into Jason. The wall that Jason was standing in front of becomes a brand new bullet sponge.   
“You okay, Damian?”  
“I’m fine, just go!” They moved through the building as bullets still rained through the wall.   
Jason felt a bullet graze his calf and pushed Damian faster. It went quiet. Jason was confused for a moment. The silence is disturbing.  
“Jason, we have to get out of here.”  
“I know. I'm thinking!” Jason responds.  
Jason looks to the left when a window into the back alley catches his eye. He picks up Damian and tosses him through the window. He hears a surprised shout and the sound of a grapple being fired. The door blasts into splinters. The explosion knocks Jason on his back. His helmet absorbs most of the impact, but his head still knocks against the hard armor. That, coupled with all his other injuries, dazes him. He crawls to his feet and stumbles to the window, jumping out before the men can shoot him seven-dozen times. He fires his grappling hook at the first fuzzy outline of a building he can see. He impacts with the edge before he's ready for it and almost falls, but small hands latch onto his wrists in a death-grip.   
He gets his arm over the edge and hauls himself back up. His vision clears, or course, after he gets out of immediate danger.   
“You gonna live Todd?”  
“Maybe.” Jason responds as he gets to his feet.  
“Good enough.” Damian responds gruffly, pulling up his hood.  
“Great to know you care so much.” Jason responds, looking over himself for any physical damage besides his leg.   
“Tt.”  
“You need to go back home.”  
“And leave you to fend for yourself?”  
“I can take perfectly good care of myself.” Jason retorts, a little peeved that the people in his territory think that they can take him out.  
“All evidence to the contrary.” Damian responds.  
“Just go!” Jason growls, pushing him in the direction of the manor.   
“Fine. Just don't come crying to me when you get into trouble and need help.” He waves a hand and jumps to the next building, heading home.  
…....... A whole evening later.  
Well, it was nice knowing them, but it was time for them to learn a short-lived lesson. All of the people who were getting out of hand were either dead, or doing what they were supposed to be doing. He officially got his chance to show the major drug bosses what he could do in a whole evening. Most of them fell back into line once he showed one of them how he dealt with opposition. He didn't.  
He still doesn't go home. He figures that if Dick gets it all figured out, he'll come and find him And sure enough, two days later, Dick comes looking and they face Bruce. The words 'stupid' and 'careless' come up a few times throughout the whole argument. But in the end, Bruce forgives them, Dick is happy, and Jason goes back to his territory. Dick had asked him to come back to the manor, but Jason had told him that he needed some time away. Dick had nervousness in his eyes with Jason being out of reach for so long, but Jason told him he'd be fine.  
Then again, Jason didn't necessarily believe himself. Dick didn't seem to believe him either, but he let him go.


	7. Guns, and Bullets, and Pointy Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason has a rough night, but Bruce and Dick are nearby to help him out. That doesn't make it any less painful when Jason rejects Dick's attention. Learning to apologize is hard when you have to scale a building before-hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ouch. Um, yeah. *chuckles nervously while hiding behind a rock*

Jason had hopped on his motorcycle and rode back to his territory. He checked on his remaining safe-houses and was pleased to not be under the threat of death just walking into his house. At least when he was in his own territory and he didn't just leave, Dick knew to leave him alone. A whole two months pass by, and the only interactions he had with his family were in the form of team-ups.  
Now that Bruce wasn't pushing for his identity like when he first showed up, he had some breathing room after his patrols. Jason catches wind of a deal going down to sell something similar to an Amazo, but not quite. It's more like a robot of sorts with a human mind and body. Jason stole the specs and it looks almost exactly like an Amazo, it just doesn't absorb powers. It carries a sword on it's person, and has strength, but otherwise it seems like a bucket of bolts and grease.  
Jason heads down to the shipping docks to stop the deal. They pull out the crate with the whatever-they-call-it inside and he drops in on the buy from overhead. He shoots the seller in the head. He knows that Bruce wouldn't want him to kill, but it's not going to get better if you let them roam free.  
“Does anyone else want to go?” The rest of the men shake their heads. He hears a click behind him and the crate depressurizes and the man who opened it has his gun aimed at Jason head. He pulls the trigger right when Jason expected him to and he kicks the gun out of his hand. He also shoots him in the head, and the rest of the goons that attended this wonderful meet.  
The crate opens up, and the not-Amazo steps out. His eyes move to the guns and he pulls his sword. Jason fires, which all-in-all wasn't a bad plan, just until he got too close for them. Note: bullets plus whatever-they-call-it equals useless bullets. Jason pulls out his knife and takes a swipe at it, putting a dent in the armor. It swings at him, slamming him in the side and causing a raw shout to burst from his mouth. His side is fine, but another hit to it might break bones. A bruise would be the least of his worries.  
He jams his knife into it's shoulder socket and severs the cords and wires, slicing the whole arm off. It roars in anger and slams Jason into the shipping container behind him, holding him there with his knee. Jason's helmet had cracked on the impact. His remaining arm, which is still holding the sword, surges towards Jason's unprotected chest. Jason moves his arm just fast enough to deflect it, but the force behind it causes Jason to lose momentum and it skims along his arm and into his chest. The blade slides between his ribs and through his left lung, all the way through the side of the container behind him.  
Jason gasps as it pulls the blade back out, allowing blood to fill his lung and spill out of him as well. Jason begins to choke on the blood and tries to focus his breathing to the one without the gaping holes in it. He slides down to the ground, blood starting to drizzle from his lips. He puts his hand to his ear and patches into Dick's secure line.  
“Nightwing.” Jason croaks.  
“Jason! It's so good to....” Dick pauses, realizing that Jason didn't sound too hot. “What's going on?”  
Jason coughs, blood puffing from his lips. He doesn't have the air to say much. “Help.” he croaks again, quieter.  
“I'm on my way and I'm bringing Bruce! I hope that will be enough.” Dick answers. “I'm tracking your signal, just hold on!”  
Jason breathes shakily and looks up at the thing still towering over him. Why hadn't it just finished him? It could have, a million times over while he was calling for help. Jason had one trick left and he prayed that it would work. He threw a sticky grenade at it with what little strength he had, and it stuck to the top of his head. It staggered back, confused and Jason flinched away from the explosion that followed.  
The head blew off, just like when they dealt with Amazo. Jason started crawling towards the entrance, but he knew that making it was beyond him. He pushed himself to his feet and braced himself against the shipping containers to keep moving. He lost his footing after stumbling along the length of seven containers. He hit the ground chest-first, making white-hot pain erupt in his head. His forehead feels like it's on fire even with his lack of blood. He tries to push himself up again and he only stumbles a few more steps before going down . That's when he hears it.  
It's faint at first, but then he realizes that it's not faint. It's him that's fading out of consciousness.  
“No, no, no! Jason!” he hears footsteps. “Jay! No, no, no. Come on.” He feels pressure on the side of his helmet, right where the locking mechanism should be. “Dang it! No! Of course it has to be broken!”  
Jason moves his own hand to get the secondary to release. His fingers fumble with it for a moment before he feels the ridge of the catch. He pulls it and the helmet depressurizes. Dick gasps at the blood all over his face. Streaks trail across his cheeks and it dribbles from his chin.  
“Dick! How is he?” Bruce's voice follows the whir of the Batmobile.  
Dick's panicked voice responds that it's not good. Dick looks away from Jason for the first time since he found him and he spots the blood trail that he had left. There's a lot of blood, and especially in the places where he stopped to rest a little. He was lucky to have made it as far as he did. Even luckier to still be alive.  
“Dick! Come on, let's get him back!” Batman had gotten him into the Batmobile and secured him.  
The whole time that Bruce was taking care of him, he had held on to consciousness. He was very obviously out of it and he didn't have much strength to help in any way, but it helped him feel like he had a little control.  
Dick rushed back to the Batmobile and jumped in. Jason's head lolled in Dick's direction, and Dick thought that he had finally passed out from blood loss.  
Jason groaned and continued to focus on breathing with his good lung. He was still choking a little on the blood from the other, but he was getting through it. Though, technically yes, he was still drowning.  
…....  
Dick finally had it after he flat-lined the third time. He broke down and ran to his room. He couldn't tell if Bruce or Damian followed him, but it made no difference. He was tired, and nearly hysterical with worry. He laid down on his back when he reached his bed and breathed deep, trying for the first time ever to reign in his emotions.  
It works a lot like herding cats. They scatter in random directions and just out of reach. A knock on his door tells him someone did in fact follow him.  
“Come in.” he said quietly.  
There is no looming shadow, so Damian is obviously the culprit. Dick gestures him over and Damian crawls in next to his brother.  
“You okay?”  
“No. What happened after I left?”  
“He stabilized. We got him back, and it looks like it's for good.”  
“Good, that's good.” Dick sighs in relief.  
Damian looks up at Dick and sees his eyes unusually bright. “What's wrong? I thought you would be thrilled at his revival.”  
“I am. I... it's just that... we almost lost him again, Dami.”  
Damian turns to him and wraps his arms around him. “I know what he means to you, but he's stronger than the shell that he hides himself in.”  
“What shell?”  
“That growly, grumpy, 'I hate everything and everyone' persona.” Damian snickers.  
Dick chuckles a little. “He didn't used to be that way.”  
“Well, death, plus Lazarus pit, plus bitterness over being replaced by Tim would make anyone a little irritated.”  
Dick exhales, rolling onto his back. “I remember a couple months ago when he got clipped by a sniper and the bullet was poisoned.”  
“Poisoned?”  
“It was curare. I've heard of a guy with that MO, and the Arrow was after him for a while. He got away before Jason could shoot him in the head.”  
“It's very sad, I know.” a voice says from Dick's door.  
He looks up and Jason is standing there. Dick gapes like a fish, and Damian remains emotionless. Jason smirks.  
“What the heck are you doing up?! You should be resting!” Dick says after gaping a little longer.  
Jason shuffles into the room, taking it slow. It must be killing him just to move.  
“The sword wound is murder on my carefully sutured lung, if you were wondering.” Jason strains out. “And I heal a little faster, since the Lazarus pit.”  
Dick sighs and leans back on the bed. Jason wheezes slightly through careful use of his bad lung. Dick gestures him over and he comes close to the bed but doesn't settle in. Dick gets up, maneuvering around Damian to help Jason.  
Dick smirks. “Look at you.” he hugs his brother gently. “The big bad Red Hood.”  
Jason returns the hug to pull Dick's ear close to his mouth. “The big bad Red Hood will throw you off of Wayne manor if you mother hen me tonight.”  
Dick stiffens a little, because it didn't sound at all friendly, or joking. He lets go of him. “Jay?”  
The look on Jason's face reveals nothing except quiet demand to be left alone. Jason's refusal of Dick's help stung, more than he would like to admit, and after almost losing Jason not even an hour before, the emotional turmoil sent him hurtling for the door.  
“Dick, wait!” Jason strains out. Jason grimaced and gave chase.  
Damian stared in horror as Jason broke into a dead sprint after him, with total disregard for Alfred's careful work. He could hear Jason's groans from Dick's room.  
“Dick!”  
Jason raced after him, only seeing flashes of him around corners. The last he saw him, he had thrown the balcony doors open and made his way up, to the roof. Still following, but more silent without the sound of sobs, he scrambled up on small hand-holds to the roof. Dick, not being injured, was much faster on the climb, but Jason grabbed the roof ledge and pulled himself up. Breathing was already a lot more difficult, but he ignored it.  
He looked around once he hauled himself into a standing position and saw Dick on the smallest ledge of the roof. He was curled in on himself, and his sobs weren't muffled by any means. The sound was still surprisingly quiet, though Dick never had been a loud and ugly crier. Jason crept up on him, careful not to startle him and cause him to fall off of his tiny ledge.  
Even in his injured state, Jason sat down on the roof behind Dick and waited, not making a sound. He slowed his breathing and made sure he still wasn't heard. He sat there, listening to Dick cry, and wondered how many sleepless nights he had out here after Jason had died. How many times had Dick come out here and cried until he couldn't? Well, Jason doubted that Dick could reach the point of no tears, or if he did, it would take a month.  
Jason doesn't know how long it's been since he made it to the roof, but Dick just keeps going, as if letting all of his emotions drain away. Jason couldn't exactly let that happen, or where would the feelings of worry be. If Jason let this go on, Dick might actually listen to his roof comment and not mother hen him, which he would miss. Then he would hang around Dick to see what was so wrong that he wouldn't act like Dick.  
“Dick?” Jason called softly.  
Dick turned his head to the side, giving Jason the hint that he was listening, though the heart-wrenching sounds were still coming.  
“I'm sorry.”  
Dick still continued to cry and Jason got up, only to sit right back down behind Dick on the ledge. Jason wrapped his arms around his brother's shaking shoulders.  
“I'm sorry.” he says again.  
Dick sags into his arms, finally relenting to his brother's care. They sit there together for a while before Dick's eyes flutter closed and Jason falls asleep in an upright position, somehow, still holding his older brother's body in his arms.  
Jason wakes slowly, for the first time in a while. Dreams had deserted him, as if the bundle of joy and light that he's holding scared them all away. Jason is glad, knowing that Dick let himself trust that Jason wouldn't throw him off the roof. And at the moment, Jason feels more the 'mother hen' anyway at the moment. Dick inhales and exhales steadily with sleep and Jason lets himself relax. Though the crick in his neck didn't agree with sleeping upright, Jason didn't mind it. It was the first good sleep he'd had in a very, very long time. He moves his head slowly and opened his eyes. He almost winces at the oncoming sunlight that floods over him. The sun is warm, but there's a perfect breeze for the day. Dick groans with growing awareness and inhales deeply.  
Jason ruffles his hair lightly. “Morning, sleepyhead.” Jason chuckles.  
“Morning, Jay.” Dick opens his eyes to the harsh sunlight and snaps them back shut. “What time is it?”  
“Nearly nine, if I had to have my guess.”  
“Oh, okay.” Dick relaxes. “Wait, what!?” He shoots upright. “Nearly nine! WHY DIDN'Y YOU WAKE ME UP! I'M GONNA BE LATE FOR...”  
“Dick! Calm down. It's Saturday, you don't work that shift, and they're still sending the paperwork through for you to transfer fully to Gordon's team. Just calm down.” Jason stops his freak-out with minimal effort.  
Dick takes a deep breath and stretches out on the ledge. He stands up and bends way over backwards and touches the tip of the ledge with his hands. The he comes back up and bends over forwards, touching his toes. He shifts his weight to his arms and takes his feet smoothly off the ground, slowly bringing them up for a hand stand. He does ten push-ups like that and then lets his legs hang further to the roof, nearly touching. When they do come to rest on it, he shifts his weight to his feet and slowly comes up.  
Jason kind of gawks. He'd never had Dick's flexibility, or grace, but what he lacked, he made up for in skill and muscle. He snaps out of it before Dick can notice and saves himself the hassle of Dick's criticism.  
“Ready to get back downstairs?” he asks.  
Jason nods in reply and starts to get up. He groans and settles back onto the roof.  
“Jay?”  
“I'm alright, just stiff.”  
Uncertainty flashes across Dick's features as he looks at his brother. “You want me to...?”  
Jason relents. “Mother hen away.”  
Dick helps him to his feet and takes Jason's arm over his shoulder. Jason lets himself wheeze, because trying to stop makes his head hurt, and his chest hurt too. Dick grabs onto Jason's arm and lowers him to the balcony only having to drop him about a foot and a half from the ground. Dick drops from the roof and helps Jason to the kitchen, where the smells of breakfast hadn't even wafted from yet. Why was no one making food?  
“Master Dick! It appears that you ran off to somewhere unknown. We've been looking for you all morning!” Alfred voice was scolding as he came from the living room and Dick looks at the floor, seeming shamed. “Now, now, Master Dick. There is no need for blame. I shall simply tell Master Bruce that you needed time to yourself.” Alfred turns to Jason. “And as for you, young Master Jason. You should have checked in for your pain medication hours ago! Master Bruce has been worried sick. And I don't need to be the one to tell him that you were skirting around it.”  
Dick defends Jason. “It wasn't his fault.”  
“Technically, it was.” Jason responds, remembering when Dick had fled to the roof. Funny place for him to go after I threatened to throw him off it.  
“You're not helping your case, Jason.” Dick answers. “Alfred, please don't tell Bruce anything. I'll explain it all to him myself.”  
“If you wish, Master Dick. But if he asks, I shall tell him you wish to explain.”  
Alfred turns away.  
“Honestly, it shouldn't be that big of a deal.” Jason says. “Bruce avoids his pain medication all the time.”  
“He's just worried, come on Jay. Let's go find dad.”  
“Whatever.”  
Dick and Jason look in Bruce's study first, and Jason gets this sinking feeling that he's being watched. The study seems so empty without Bruce in it. They look in his room next, and he still isn't there.  
Dick keeps looking over his shoulder, discreetly of course, as if he has the same feeling. They walk down the hall to the Batcave and Jason turns around.  
“Caught you.” he says.  
Dick turns around too at Jason's words and Tim is standing there.  
“Why are you following us?” Dick asks. “Did Bruce put you up to this?”  
“Of course not! You were wandering around the house and I decided to see what you were looking for.”  
“Well, we're looking for Bruce. All you had to do was ask.” Dick answers.  
“Oh. Bruce is out in the garden, letting Damian chop the heads off of his fashioned bushes.”  
“Again?” Dick asks.  
Dick and Jason head that way with Tim in tow. What they see when they open the door is surprising. Bruce is the one with the katana and Damian is watching from a little distance away with another katana in hand. He takes a slice at a giraffe, slicing its head cleanly off. Damian then copies the motion with an elephant not far away.  
“That's not what I expected to see dad doing.” Dick comments.  
“Me neither.” Jason answers.  
Bruce looks up and sees them lurking in the doorway to the backyard. His expression hardens. “Where have you been?”  
“Who peed in his cheerios?” Jason leans over and asks Dick.  
“Uh, Jay?” Dick says.  
“Yeah?”  
“I think it was us.”  
Dick and Jason watch Bruce stalk up to the house. “I asked where you were.” he demands, his scowl clear in the bright morning.  
“Does it matter?” Jason asks.  
“Yes, it matters. You could have been back in Bludhaven for all I know, and you could have been hurt.”  
“Bruce, it's a little late for that.” Jason moves his accusing fingertip away.  
“Jason!” Bruce groans in frustration. He looks a little desperate. “You can't just run off in your condition!”  
“I didn't run off! I was here all night!”  
“Me too.” Dick added. Bruce opens his mouth and Dick cringes back a little, ready for the shouting lecture that was obviously at the ready.  
Bruce closes his mouth and leans back. Suddenly Damian's voice pipes up behind him.  
“Father has been working on impulse control.”  
Jason chuckles and Dick turns to go inside. Jason follows him.  
….... a month later  
Jason's surprised. Dick goes to the furthest south wing of the house and opened up a locker. What he pulled out surprised him even more. Swim trunks. He threw them at Jason, who caught them readily, and pulled out another pair.  
“Care for a swim?”  
“Care for me to toss you in over the deep end?” Jason asks, sliding into a changing booth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to attempt to update by next Monday. :)


	8. Mystic Brutality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason Todd was on bed rest for a while, but once he's back out on the street, some guy breaks loose. Jason goes to stop him and finds out that he's been being followed by the man's 'henchmen', so to speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one isn't so bad. It just embraces the stubbornness that is Jason Todd, and gets a little interesting in some places. I try not to twist knives into the hearts of my readers. : )

Bruce met him on the stairs. “Glad to see that you weren't planning on doing something stupid.”  
“I was just seeing them off.” Jason strolled past and out the door.  
“Jason?”  
“Yeah, Bruce?”  
“What do you need the jacket for?”  
“Umm. Cold winter nights?”  
“It's the middle of September.” Bruce smirks.  
“I still get chilly with my lack of blood.” Jason responds, barely containing an actual shiver.  
Bruce's expression turns understanding, as if he knows that the statement is finally the truth. He glances back at Dick, seeing a concerned look cross his face. Jason smiles reassuringly as Bruce continues on. He turns back and strolls, (more like shuffles), to his room. He can't even flop onto his wonderful bed without the risk of straining the barely healed tissue of his lung. Instead, he takes the meds Alfred left for him and carefully settles himself on the bed, leaning back with small grimaces and groans.   
The comm link opens up. “Hood, you doing alright?”  
“I'll live. So what are you doing?”  
“I'm working the streets of Bludhaven, like normal.”  
“I don't suppose that once you're done, you could work my territory?”  
“I could just respond to calls from there. Or you could ask Bruce.”  
Jason laughs a little wheezily. “Ask Bruce? He's got all of Gotham to take care of.”  
“Then get ahold of Oracle and have her put Barbara on the case.”  
“Barbara, on Crime Alley? That's one I haven't heard yet. Just, please Dick?”  
He huffs over the link. “Fine, just fine. But you'll pay for this later.”  
“What are you gonna do? I can't do anything very physical when I'm doped up on my painkillers. I'm already starting to get a little loopy and I just took them about three minutes ago.”  
“For now, just go to sleep, Jay.”  
Jason hums unconvincingly and Dick chuckles. The rest of the night goes off without a hitch, well, maybe a couple of small ones. It's past two in the morning when Dick finishes his patrol and he returns to the manor. He doesn't exactly hear Dick go by his door, he can just kind of sense that he does.  
It's only after Dick, Bruce, and replacement get home does Jason go to sleep.  
…......A Month later  
Jason jumps from building to building, the rhythm of throwing his jump line, swinging, and landing becoming soothing. Dick had gotten his full transfer to Gotham PD and was setting up his desk. Dick was getting kind of worried when it took over a month for the papers to go through, but Gordon had reassured him that they had a ton of paperwork and it took a while for the transfer to happen. Not that Bludhaven PD was a bad place for him, he just wants to be closer to home.   
Given, his town is Bludhaven and he still has to go out there. He has an apartment, but he always comes home.   
Jason is pulled out of his steady pattern by a shout. A very loud, very pained shout.  
He drops down onto the street, and the weirdest sight greets him. There's a vigilante, that he assumes is Dick. And there's someone else, in the shadows, who's about the same height and build. He comes into the light and, it's another Dick?  
“What the...”  
“Nightwing what's going on?”  
One of the two is holding his right arm close to him and has a wound above his left hip. The weapon that made it is unknown. The other Dick has a cut along his face, and what looks like a grossly dislocated shoulder. They face each other, not quite seeming like they know he's there.  
“Nightwing!” Jason commands an answer.  
“What?” they both react.  
Jason pulls his guns and aims up, on their heads. “If you can't prove you are who you're dressed as, you can say goodbye to life right now. Do either of you know what my last major injury was?”  
“Broken arm?” one asks.  
Ironically, it's the one with a broken arm who asked.  
“Shattered collarbone.” the other responds.  
BANG. BANG. “Close. But not quite.” Two bodies drop to the ground.  
Jason books it over to the Gotham police department and hides his helmet and leather jacket close-by. He's wearing his cargo pants, so those are as inconspicuous as it gets. Luckily, his shirt is pretty normal today. He strides in and asks for directions to Gordon's unit. As he walks into the precinct, he's assaulted by shouting to someone on the balcony. He looks for Dick, but doesn't see him. He takes another look and he almost thinks he left when he sees a jet black mass of hair lying on a desk.  
He strides towards him. “Dick.”   
His head is up in less than a second. “Jay? What are you doing here? And don't call me Dick. I'm John.”  
“I don't care who you are, we have a problem.” He crouches next to Dick's desk.  
“What's wrong?”  
“I just caught two Nightwing impersonators back in Bludhaven. They looked exactly like you. And I think they were fighting each other.”  
Dick blinks. “Are you sure you saw that right?”  
“You can go look, but their faces don't exactly look the same anymore.”  
“You shot them?!” Dick exclaims quietly, ducking his head.  
“What else was I going to do?”  
“Turn them in? Kick them off your territory?” Dick frowns.  
“Sorry, Dick. I guess my protective instincts shouldn't be used when I'm dealing with freaking clones!” he responds.  
“Sorry, Sorry. Just calm down. You look half crazy.”  
Jason gives him that look. “I am half crazy, Dick.”  
He sighs. “Fine, just... I told you not to call me Dick here.”  
“Sorry, John. If you were going for original, you fail at names.”  
“Least my last name isn't Smith.” he answers.  
The TV in the corner turns on as Gordon walks in. “Breaking News. There has suddenly been an uptick in vigilantes as duplicates are being found all across Gotham and Bludhaven. No one knows how or why they are only coming now, but something tells me that some heroes should not be duplicated.”  
A scream from behind her causes the cameraman to turn. “It's the Red Hood! Look out!”   
Dick looks at him as the screen fills with Batmen and himself and Red Hoods, Robins, Batgirls.   
“What's happening?  
“All of the activity has these men flooding from Arkham and the narrows. These men must be stopped, at all costs.”  
“What do we do, Jay.”  
“You're going to stay here and do your job. I'm going to go do mine.”  
Jason grabs his stuff and heads for Arkham Asylum, jumping the gates. He goes through all of the offices and what he finds in the last hallway at the last door is weird. There's just a man, sitting on a desk with his legs crossed and his eyes shut in focus. A misty picture floats away from him. As soon as Jason sees the Red Hood, he slashes through the mist before it can form.  
The man flinches, as if aware, but not able to come out of his trance. Jason pulls his gun and shoots Mr. Duplicate in the face. Right in his face. The body recoils, but he leans back forwards, not missing a beat. Of course it can't be that easy. Guess it's the messy way then.  
The powder burns and the hole in his head, but the still living and breathing thing, is a little irksome. He pulls out his knife. He gets around behind him and puts the knife to his throat.  
“I wouldn't do that, young man.” He says. “You kill me, your friend dies. You see, you left him alone when you came after the source of the duplicates, and now he's in trouble. Because you, young man, are going to blow up the precinct. And though your names are still unknown to me, I can still have other secrets.  
“Only if you're still alive to control them.” Jason growls.   
A fine mist sprays over him as he's about to cut his head off and pushes him away. The Red Hood forms again, right in front of him. Jason pulls him gun and pops him in the head, the helmet not being enough protection. Or so he thought.  
“He is mist, your bullets are ineffective.”  
Jason is knocked to the floor by the not-Red-Hood and he scrambles around the desk. Knife in one hand, gun in the other, he shoots the mist in center mass and he flickers. It pulls out its gun and fires it. Pain lances up and down Jason's right arm and shoulder as the bullet tears through him. How does he miss from less than four feet away? Guess he isn't a very good shot.  
He turns over and gets around the side of the desk facing the door. He plunges his knife into Mr. Duplicate's throat and twists.  
“It's too late.” he gurgles “You were too late.”  
Jason shouts and slices his head off of his shoulders, the blood going everywhere. It's sprays backwards as the body falls and the Red Hood disappears. The body hits the floor and convulses a couple of time before becoming motionless.  
Jason rushes from the room and sprints out the doors. Please don't let him be telling the truth. It takes all of ten minutes for him to reach it, in a grand record on foot. It was still the longest ten minutes ever. He could hear the sirens long before he got there and he didn't go to the barricades at the front. They'd never let him in there.  
Instead he comes in from the roof next door and drops in through a hole in the ceiling. He can hear the police shouting to the people to stay back. He hears some of the building collapse and he almost loses his footing when what's left of the floor shifts.  
He's about to call Dick's name, but thinks better of it when he sees Gordon lying in the rubble not far away. He grabs him and gets him down to the main floor and to the rescues who 'can't' get inside the building. He rushes back in and up to the second floor. A piece of the building shifts and he hears and an almost whimpering groan. It's not a sound he wants to hear again, from anyone.  
“Please, no. No, no.” He rushes towards the sound, wobbling when the floor shifts again. Jason struggles to breathe in all the dust even with the helmet filtering what it can. That same piece of building shifts again and he hears a curse from a very comforting voice to hear. It wasn't a nice curse either. And more follow it.  
“Dick!” Jason shouts.  
“Jay! Help! I can't get out!” Dick's voice is surprisingly calm, with only the slightest hint of fear.  
“Just hold on! The building keeps shifting around!” Jason shouts back.  
“I know!”   
Part of the floor sinks behind him and he whips around. Dick yelps in pain as the piece of the building shifts. Part of the roof is on top of his stomach like a huge stone dagger. Doritos shaped really.  
“Jay! Hurry up!” Now he sounds scared.  
“Okay, uh, are you hurt at all?”  
“I'm dandy. I just need to get out of here!” he strains, pushing against the piece on his stomach.  
Jason reaches the point of Dick's voice and starts pulling the rocks away. He reaches Dick's left leg, but the right is still buried. “Jay, how far are you?”  
“I've got your left leg uncovered.”   
The building shift again and Dick moans before speaking again. “Just keep going!”  
He gets him all dug out and Dick coughs, but seems well enough. Dick gets to his feet and staggers a little.  
“You alright?”  
“I told you I'm fine. Now come on! We've got to get out of here.” He rubs his stomach gently.  
The floor warps beneath their feet and Jason stumbles. Dick grabs his arm and keeps him upright so they can move towards the hole in the ceiling. Jason lets Dick give him a boost and he reaches back down through the hole for Dick. Dick grabs on and Jason hauls him up. It's only once they move for the other roof does the rest of the building start collapsing. Jason jumps for the edge and lands it and Dick starts to follow. The building falls lower just as he jumps and Jason catches his arms. Dick slams into the side of the apartment building they leaped onto and he cries out.   
Some of the crowd are now gathered at the mouth of the alley, as if they saw Jason leap the gap and wondered if he had someone with him. They point and scream and cover their mouths in horror. Jason pulls Dick up and Dick rolls over the edge. Jason hears clapping in the street below.  
“Where's the rest of your unit?” Jason asks.  
“They were out fighting the duplicates. I stayed behind to help Gordon get people to set perimeters and run crowd control.” Dick gasps.  
“He knew.”  
“Who knew?” Dick asks.  
“The guy making the duplicates. He knew that you're close to me, Dick. That's why he blew up the precinct.”  
“How did he know?”  
“He must have had one of his misty dudes follow me after I shot two of you in the head.”  
“It's very comforting to know that you can shoot me in the head without hesitating.” Dick nearly giggles.  
“If one of them was actually you, I never would have shot.”  
Dick looks over the edge and he laughs. He covers his face with his hand and laughs. “Jay...”  
He doesn't get to finish his thought because Jason hugs him. Dick sits up and Jason kneels next to him with his arms wrapped around his shoulders with a hand in his hair.  
“He told me I was too late and I was afraid that I lost you.”  
“He, as in the guy who made the duplicates?” Dick asks. “When did he say that?”  
“He told me right after I stabbed him in the throat, but before I cut his head off for saying it.” Jason responds.  
“You what?” Dick was a little surprised. Even for Jason, that was brutal.  
“Dick, I'm sorry I left you. I shouldn't have left you here.” Jason lets him go a little.  
“Jay. You don't have control over me. I trusted that you would handle it, so I stayed put. You handled it. It was messy I'm betting, but problem solved.”  
Dick sighs, thrilled that Jason was able to take care of it and save him in the process. Jason let him go and Dick coughed some more, the dust in his lungs finally taking its toll. Jason puts a hand down on Dick's shoulder and he waves him off.  
“I'm okay. I just need a second.” Dick wheezes, just before another coughing fit.  
“You sure a second will do?” Jason asks, his concerned expression hidden by his helmet.   
Dick nods for a bit then gets back to his feet. Jason can hear the people shouting questions from the alley. 'Where's the officer he saved?' 'Did he not survive?' 'Why haven't we seen him yet?'  
“We should get out of here.” Jason says.  
“How suspicious would it be if I didn't show back up? Help me out to the back of the building and I'll go back.”  
“Dick we have to let Alfred take a look at you.”  
“The paramedics are just going to do the same thing.” Dick answers.  
“What if they take you to the hospital?”  
“Then they take me to the hospital, so what?”   
“Dick! Don't you understand? I don't want to have to walk into a hospital under a false name to see you, and Bruce wouldn't either, or Damian. Tim might not care, but I don't feel like it.”  
“No one said you had to visit me Jay.”  
“If I have to take you a gunpoint, I will.”  
“Then that's what you'll have to do, because I run the risk of blowing my cover if I go home with you!”  
Jason shakes his head angrily. He makes up his mind and pulls his gun. Dick looks surprised if the way he practically jumps off the ground is any indication. He comes towards him.  
“Are you really that desperate to not see me in a hospital that you'll hurt me?” Dick asks, taking a pace back now.  
“I won't shoot you if you come home!”  
Suddenly, the door to the roof is kicked open and Jason is behind Dick in an instant. Not that he wanted to be there, but Dick had jumped in front of him. Jason turns his gun to the officer.  
“Don't shoot!”  
Jason braces himself for the hurt look that would be on Dick's face and wraps an arm around Dick's throat and holds his gun close to Dick's temple.   
“Just let him go!” the officer shouts. “Let him go or I'll shoot!” his voice shakes, as if his first time facing someone as dangerously armed as the Red Hood.  
“No! Don't!” Dick shouts back. He lowers his voice so only Jason can hear him. “Okay, I get it.”  
“Get what?” Jason asks quietly.  
“I get why you don't want to have to be someone else to see another person who's pretending to be someone else. If you'll just back us over the edge of the roof, we can escape.”  
“Oh, joy? What happens for that second when I drop you and leave myself open?”  
“Drop the gun!” the officer shouts.  
“You could jump with me.” He suggests. “Just keep me in front of you.”  
“That's a great plan, just let me find a way to throw a jump line in that same moment.” Jason responds sarcastically.  
“I could throw the jump line.”  
“Won't he notice?”   
“Not if we move quickly.”  
Jason tells Dick to put a hand behind him and gives Dick the jump line. Jason backs towards the edge.  
“Don't move!” the officer shouts, taking steps closer. He finally calls for back-up. It only took him three minutes.   
Jason takes another cautious step back.  
“I said don't move! If you take one more step I will shoot you.”  
“Don't! Don't shoot. You don't have to shoot anyone!” Dick answers, putting a hand out while pretending to try to keep Jason from strangling him.  
The officer takes a step forwards and Jason 'forces' Dick lower and presses his gun to his head. “Don't come any closer or I will blow his brains all over this roof!”  
The officer takes an experimental step forwards and Dick hears the hammer of Jason's gun pull back.   
“Whoa! Easy.” The officer points his gun in the air and puts his hands up slightly. “There's no need to kill anyone. I said I would shoot you if you moved, but I can't risk it.”  
How stupid is this guy? Is he going to try to talk him to death? “And I told you that I would shoot him if you came any closer!” Jason shouts back.   
The sound of a helicopter drones in the distance. “Jay, it's time to get moving.” Dick whispers.  
“I know, just hang on.”  
Jason takes the rest of the steps to the ledge and he pulls Dick up onto it with him. Dick discreetly looks over his shoulder to the ground below.   
“Jay, that's SWAT. I don't think we can go that way. They're setting up, but they have a clear shot of you. We have to get down.” Jason pushes Dick back to the safety of the roof and comes off the ledge.  
“Lost visual at the back of the building. Do we have eyes on the suspect?”  
The officer moves his hand to answer but Jason stops him. “Ah, ah, ah! No. Don't answer that.” Jason tells him, pressing the cold barrel of the gun harder against Dick's head. Dick squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and bites his lip, feigning fear.  
“Okay, but maybe we can negotiate something.” The officer tries to appease him.  
“There is nothing to negotiate!” Jason growls. “You either leave me alone, or he dies! That's all there is!”  
“I just want to get everyone out of this unharmed.” he answers.  
“We have the building surrounded. Do you need us to breach? Officer Bradshaw, do you need us to breach?” they pause. “We've lost contact with the officer on the roof.”  
“Jay, I think that's our cue. Do what you have to.”  
Jason's eyes widen under his helmet and Dick closes his eyes. Jason aims for his new target, covers Dick's ear with the hand of the arm around his throat, and fires at the officer. The round goes through his thigh in a non-vital area and Jason and Dick make a run for it, still holding the guise of hostage situation.  
Dick fires the jump line while the officer is dealing with his wound and grabs on. It hooks onto a taller building's peak and Jason jumps on Dick's back. They land on a building a block down the street and hit the roof running. Dick coughs a little when they stop to rest and the wail of sirens is blocks away.  
“Now I have to go back or they're going to start a man-hunt.”  
“I suppose I could take you a couple of blocks closer and you could walk back.”  
“Okay.”  
Jason takes him back and watches them swarm Dick as he walks back towards the SWAT trucks. He gets close enough to hear them yelling over the commotion.  
“Would you like us to get you a paramedic?”  
“No, I'm fine. How's Gordon?”  
“He's banged up, but he'll live.”  
“What about the Red Hood?”  
“He let me go once he escaped.” Dick answers. “I'm fine, you can let him go for now.”  
“I'm sure Gordon won't mind dropping it. The guy saved his life.”  
“You'd be surprised, but I'll try to persuade him.”  
Jason smirks. Yeah, Gordon does find it hard to drop the cases the the Red Hood involved, but people like Dick have a way of pointing people in the other direction for a while.  
“So, Batman. You're a little late.” Jason says without turning, knowing that ol Bats is behind him.  
“That could have been handled differently.” he answers.  
“No one even died.” Jason responds. Well, someone died, Bruce just didn't see it.  
“You had a gun pointed at your hostage's head. It was a dangerous risk that could have ended his life or yours, or both.” Bruce responds in his 'I am the Nightmares that haunt you. I am Batman!' voice.   
“If I had gone with my original plan, I would have been shot off the edge of the roof with him because the SWAT team would have shot me, so I suppose the alternative was a better choice.”  
“I didn't say that you should have handled it differently, I just said that it could have been.” Bruce smiles, his cowl suddenly less daunting. “You did well, Hood.”  
Jason blinks. Gratitude? And praise? In the same sentence? Jason could have fainted right there on the spot if he was still who he used to be. Eager to please all the time. But now he had nothing to prove.  
“Thanks.”  
Jason gets up and pulls out his gun and aims it at Bruce. His smile turns to a frown. Jason pulls the trigger. “Bang.” he says as the gun clicks.   
“How did you know that one was empty?”  
“I used all the bullets in this one while I was, working something else.”  
“What?” Batman studies him and Jason closes up his body language out of habit. “You were working on the duplicate problem.”  
It's not a question. His disappointment is obvious as he realizes that the man behind it must be dead. Jason fights the urge to feel guilty. He threatened Dick and almost caused a city-wide catastrophe. He brought down a building. He deserved what he got.  
Jason is prepared for a lecture on the morals of killing. He closes his eyes with a sigh. When that lecture doesn't come, he opens his eyes to make sure someone hadn't shot him in that second his eyes were shut. Bruce was just standing there, silent.  
“Uh, Bats? Are you forgetting something?”  
“No.”  
“You're not going to lecture me?”  
“Would you listen?”   
“Probably not.” Jason mutters.  
“Then that's why I don't lecture you.”  
“You know that you want to though, right?”   
“I...” Jason interrupts him.  
“Right, impulse control.” Jason glances up at him. “It doesn't suit you.”  
“Do you want a lecture?”  
Jason thought about it. He really did. And for some reason, he found himself missing the normality of their one-sided arguments.  
“Yes.”  
“Figures.” Bruce huffs.  
“But the question is are you going to give me one?” Jason asks.  
“I might if you keep pushing your luck.” he responds, sounding somewhat unhappy.   
“You know you want to.”  
“But it won't change anything.”  
Jason frowns, though Bruce can't see that. “No. It wouldn't.” Jason waits for Bruce to make a move. Towards him, away from him, it doesn't matter.  
Bruce backs up and merges with the shadows, the last thing showing are the whites of the mask lenses and his jaw set in a grim frown. Jason shudders with a sudden chill. Should he have let Bruce go?   
“That was creepy.” A voice pipes up from behind him on the very edge of the building. “In a Batman kind of way though.”  
Jason turns, his gun empty, to the intruder before realizing it's just Dick. Dick comes off the ledge. He's down to his Nightwing costume now and he has his eskirma sticks at his back in an X. His mask has new lenses with a weird glow to them. Then he flickers.  
“No.”  
“You should have known that you could never get rid of me like that.”  
Not-Dick laughs, his voice separating into two sounds at once.   
“Batman!” Jason calls, his mentor having disappeared.  
“Do not worry about your mentor. He will not be in any trouble, as long as he isn't near you.” Nightwing approaches Jason and pulls an eskirma stick from his back.  
Jason feels Bruce's looming presence again and hopes he realizes that it isn't him. It isn't Dick. It swings the stick at him and Jason tries to block it, but he turns to mist just long enough to go through him and for the stick to hit its mark on Jason's jaw. The helmet took the blow, thankfully. He tries to swing at its chest, but it turns to mist every time and stays solid just long enough to land hits on him.  
“You killed the wrong man you know?”  
“There's no way.”  
“He was just a vessel. Who you really needed to kill, was me.” He laughs again.  
Jason tries not to be unnerved. If he can't hit him, how will Jason survive? Jason feigns a strike to the left while aiming a blow with his right. He meets nothing but space and his feet are kicked out from under him.  
“Let me make this easy on you and tell me how to kill you.” Jason growls.  
“The only thing that can kill me is, why, me of course. And why would I ever do that?” he smiles wickedly.  
Jason rushes him again only to be knocked flat, but when he goes down, he grabs the other eskirma stick to try to stay upright. It slides out of the holder and he still falls. He lands on top of it to hide it. He starts to get up, but something keeps his wrists pinned to the ground. He looks at them and misty chains are wrapped around them.  
“I thought you only did people.”  
“And you underestimated me.”  
A wavy dagger forms in his hand and it glints off of the city lights. He raises it above his head and smiles. He surges downwards and the chain suddenly disappears as he focuses on something else. Jason pulls the eskirma stick from behind him faster than it can react and, though blunt, they are copies of Dick's and one end is slightly pointed. It has no time to realize its mistake and plunges onto the metal bar. The dagger, still coming with downward motion, pushes into his right shoulder. Of course it had to be the arm that already had a bullet in it.  
Jason pushes the man off of him with the bar and groans. He sits up and rips the dagger from his arm quickly. He groans as the curves follow the track out of the wound and tries to get up. He stumbles the first time, but he keeps moving and gets to his feet. He looks around for Bruce.  
“I know you're here Batman!” he shouts.  
Wait a minute. Dick had shown up just as Bruce left, but if it was Bruce, he would have acknowledged him, wouldn't he?  
Batman swung onto a ledge close to Jason. “I heard about the building collapse. Did everyone get out alright?”  
“Yeah.”  
“I heard the sounds of a fight coming from here. Are you alright?” His eyes sweep over Jason, analyzing him. “You're bleeding. From a couple of places actually.”  
“What's something only you would know?” Jason asks.  
“Jason, are you alright?”  
Jason surges forwards and hugs Batman, right there on the building. Bruce puts his arms around Jason a little awkwardly. The weird dude that he brutally murdered earlier had said that he didn't know their identities. Bruce holds him out at arms length for a moment.  
“What's wrong? You're shivering.”  
Strange. He didn't feel cold. But he realizes that Bruce is right and he tries to calm himself down. Bruce releases the catch on Jason's helmet and it depressurizes. Bruce takes it off and sets it on the ground. He comes back up to Jason's level and Jason, for the first time in a long time around Bruce, lets his fear show on his face and Bruce seems almost physically hurt.  
“Oh, Jason.”  
He pulls him close and wraps his arms around him, pulling one up to card through his hair. He can still feel Jason shivering even though the night is warm and so is he.  
“What happened?” he asks quietly. “From the beginning.”  
“It started out with the duplicates closer to the beginning of the night and I saw two duplicates of Nightwing. They were fighting each other. I shot them both in the head.”  
“Jay.”  
“You told me to tell you what happened. That's what happened.”  
Bruce could tell that Jason wasn't going to be very agreeable in this weird state. “Okay, continue.”  
“I went to see Dick at the GPD right after that. He told me that I looked half crazy. I told him that I was.” Bruce chuckles and the sound seems to calm him a little. “The news came on and it let us know that the men were flooding out of the Narrows and Arkham. So I went to Arkham.”  
“And?”  
“And I found the man controlling them all. I shot him in the head too, but he didn't die.” Jason growls. “It couldn't just be that easy. So I got out my knife and got behind him. And then he formed another duplicate and it was me. I tried to shoot him too, but the bullets didn't do anything. So I got around the side of the desk and he shot me in the arm. Seriously, from four feet away, he shoots me in the arm?”  
“Maybe he's a really bad shot.”  
“I doubt it. I gripped my knife and I stabbed the guy who I thought was controlling them in the throat. Earlier he had told me that I would blow up the precinct where Dick was working. He didn't know that Dick was my brother, he just knew that I had gone to see him. He told me I was too late and I cut his head off.” Bruce tried to not be a little stung at the brutality that Jason had used.  
“I got to the precinct in about ten minutes and I jumped through a hole in the ceiling. I was going to call for Dick, but then I saw Gordon and I had to get him out. I went back for Dick and...” Jason laughs, a little dryly. “He was cussing up a storm.”  
“Dick?” Bruce asks ,surprised.   
“Yeah. He was buried under a lot of debris and couldn't get out. Every time the building shifted, it put more weight on his body. He cried out more than once while I was trying to get to him and help him. He was fine, just a little bruised. I got him out of the building. And we jumped to the roof next door and then building fell out from under Dick's feet. He almost fell.”  
Jason had sunk to the ground when he got to Dick being buried under the rubble. Bruce kneels down beside him and wraps an arm around his shoulders, settling onto the roof.  
“I grabbed onto his arms and pulled him up and the people who were gathered around the building saw. After a bit they started to wonder where we were. I had already hugged Dick with relief and told him a chopped that guy's head off. I think he took it well.”  
“Then.” Bruce coaxed him on, knowing that staying on one subject for too long would just cause him to dwell on it.  
“We had a fight as to where he should get help.”  
“He should have come home.”  
“That's what I told him, but he wanted to go to the paramedics so his cover would stay intact. An officer kicked open the door to the roof and held his gun up. Dick jumped in front of me and told him not to shoot. I had to do something. So I grabbed Dick around his neck and put a gun to his head and told the guy to back off. He said he'd shoot if I moved, so I of course moved, but since I had a hostage he didn't shoot. Dick and I were planning to jump off the back of the building and swing away when he started moving closer. So, I pulled back the hammer on my gun and I told him not to come closer or I'd shoot.”  
“Jason, this is all very detailed. You sure you need to be this thorough?”  
“You asked me what happened.”  
“Okay, okay. Go on.”  
“He stepper closer and I pressed the gun closer to his head and backed up to the ledge, standing up on it. I had given Dick my jump line. And I backed him up onto it with me. SWAT was down below so I stepped off the ledge at Dick's warning. We had to find a way to get away so Dick told me to do what I had to do and shut his eyes. I shot the cop in the leg and we ran. We got a few blocks away and Dick told me he had to go back or else they'd start a man-hunt. So I took him back, he walked to the SWAT trucks and told them to leave me be. I came up here and talked to a fake you, not realizing it until it showed up and you disappeared. We fought and then I... I had to kill him.”  
“And he looked real.” Bruce realized now why he was so shaky earlier. “But you shot two of them earlier.”   
“Because I knew exactly where Dick was and I knew he was safe.”  
He was still a little shaky now, but not as bad as before. “Would it be better if we went and found him?”  
Jason moved his gloved hand and brushed it across his helmet. “Maybe.”  
“Robin, find Dick's location.” Bruce commands into the comm.  
“Yes, O Demanding One.” Damian responds starkly.  
Bruce shakes his head. “It's not for me. It's for Jason.”  
“Oh. Fine then.”  
Bruce raises a questioning brow even though no one can see it. Jason can't seem to get a good grip on his emotions. Part of it could be paranoia, but Bruce isn't going to look to much into it. Not with his hard-headed, nearly fearless son shaking like a leaf in his arms. Bruce can't tell much through Jason's mask, but what he can tell is that his eyes are shut against the horrors he's probably imagining around him.  
“I've got Grayson.” Damian finally says through the link.   
“Good. Better get him to my location.”  
“Oh gosh, I killed him.” Bruce wraps his arm tighter around Jason as he curls in on himself and keeps repeating it over and over. If it was anyone else, Bruce would expect tears, but this was Jason.  
“Bruce?” Dick voice asks timidly. “What going on?” He steps close to them and Bruce looks up into his wondering, pleading eyes.  
“He needs you, Dick. He's just...”  
“Scared.” Dick finishes.  
With Jason's already fragile metal state, the extra paranoia couldn't be good for him. And now that he's confused, he might not react very well.  
“Jay?” Dick asks, kneeling in front of him.  
Jason doesn't look up or open his eyes, retreating into his mind. Dick picks his head up to look at him, realizing that his eyes aren't open.   
“Jay, open your eyes and look at me.” he pulls the mask off gently. “Come on, Jason. I'm right here. Just open your eyes and you'll see. There's nothing to be afraid of anymore. It's over.” Jason trembles under Dick's hands and Bruce looks concerned. “Jay, please?”  
Jason's blue eyes finally open up a little and he sees Dick. His first reaction is disbelief, but he must realize that Bruce would never let anyone near him who wasn't the real thing.  
“Dick.”  
“It's okay, frate mai mic.” His Romani heritage slips and Jason smiles. (little brother: frate mai mic)  
Dick also smiles. He taught Jason a long time ago, just enough to know what it meant.   
“I know, frate mai mare.” (big brother: frate mai mare)  
Dick laughs and hugs him and Jason grips him tightly.  
“It's time to get home, and Damian you can come out now.”  
Damian walks over to them and helps Dick get Jason up off the ground. Dick has ahold of his bad arm and he jerks with a grimace.  
“Sorry.” Jason lets Dick pull him up, but more gently.   
Jason holds his arm close to him and Dick looks it over. “A bullet wound, and a stab wound. Anywhere else?”  
“No. It's just there aside from a few bruises. I'll be fine.”  
Now that he had seen Dick, he seemed to be getting back to normal pretty quickly, but Bruce wondered how long killing Dick would stick in his nightmares. Since he still has nightmares about his own death, most likely a long time.  
…. Back at Wayne Manor  
They got Jason settled, and it took some persuasion to get Jason to sleep. Dick had of course been the one to get him to do so and Bruce had thanked him. Dick waves off the unexpected praise and heads to his room. Jason was surprisingly quiet all night and Dick and Bruce checked on him the next morning and Damian had come and sat next to him for awhile during the day in between his studies while Dick had gone to work at the temporary headquarters for the GPD. Tim came in and read a book.  
A month later, Bruce calls his sons down into the main hall and gives them grand news. “Pack up your crap, boys. We're going on a vacation.”  
“Should we bring our alter egos on this 'vacation'?” Jason asks, using quotey fingers to convey his suspicious thoughts of the trip.  
“No. I told you vacation. We're going on vacation.”  
“Where are we going?” Dick asks.  
Damian is silent, and Tim is bouncing off the walls, literally.  
“While all this is very heart-warming, Master Bruce, who is going to cover for you in your, shall we say, Nightly duties?”  
“I've got just the man in mind.”


	9. Vacation for the Bataboys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is tired, and he knows someone nice enough to take over while he's on vacation with his sons. Those who take over find out how grueling it is to play a part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one isn't so long, and I skipped a couple of days, mostly for my sake. If you feel the need to be imaginative, I'll take suggestions for the missing days. : )

Green Arrow, Oliver Queen, island survivor, Starling City vigilante. Is wearing a skin-tight costume with armor. Why? Oh, because Bruce thought it would be a great. And a couple of his friends, Roy, and Diggle came to help him. And boy was the replacement Robin fun to come by. Oliver doesn't have that many friends of that height and age. Thankfully, a member of the Young Justice League offered. Oliver hadn't realized that it was Miss Martian until she got to the rally point so Bruce could explain and she morphed into herself.   
Diggle got the role of the Red Hood, and Jason took careful time to explain exactly what he had to do. “You have to collect money from the crime bosses at the end of each week. If they shoot at you, shoot back and aim to kill.”  
“Uh, I thought you weren't supposed to kill.”  
“I'm not Batman. I do things differently. Now pay attention.” …...  
Dick took the liberty of granting Roy the gift of hair dye. He had let it grow out while he was in hiding and growled when he saw the package.  
“Well, unless I suddenly became a brunette, there's not much else to do.”  
“Oliver, I thought you said we had a mission.”  
Oliver mimics Bruce's Batman voice as best he can. “We do.” and slides the cowl over his head.   
Dick finds the nearest sink and dyes Roy's hair black and Roy comes back frowning.  
“Come on Roy, it's not so bad. And if you're going to be Nightwing, you have to smile. And make jokes at inopportune times. And insult the bad guys.”  
“Yeah, I don't really do that.”  
“That's really too bad, Roy, we could have been good friends.” He says as he tosses the Nightwing costume at him.  
“We are friends., you nit-wit.” he answers as he goes into a changing room.   
Bruce had insisted on blind-folding them on the way to the cave and Oliver had been a little nervous at the aspect of not being able to see. Dig made sure that they weren't doing anything more than playing roles. They only knew that there was an entrance from somewhere in the city, and Bruce set the Batmobile for auto-pilot.  
Miss Martian was acquainted with Damian so she morphed into him and that was a little weird. Oliver moved in the Bat-suit and it was a smidge loose, but Bruce had more muscle mass than him. Jason handed one of his older leather jackets to Diggle and he was wearing his current one. Even with the old one, he hesitated. Dig grabbed it and put a firm hand on his shoulder.  
“Don't worry man, I'll take good care of it.”   
Jason lets it slide out of his hand. Then he turns to the table behind him and twirls two guns on his fingers once, then aims them at Dig. Diggle raises a questioning brow. Jason flips the guns and hands them to him. “They holster in the back of the cargo pants.” He turns back around and grabs something else. “You'll need this.” he holds a back mass in his hands.  
Dig was already wearing the cargo pants he needed and had holstered the two guns. The jacket is heavy, so he checks the pockets and seams and finds little sonic things, small grenades, a comm link, a knife, a listening device, another knife, bigger grenades, a flashlight, a couple jump lines, a paper clip with a bobby pin, a dime, and a little knife that slides into the palm. Jason told him to take off his shoes. Dig frowns. “Uh, why?”  
“Because I have specific things that you need. That's why.”  
“Looks to me like you have enough artillery in just the jacket.”  
“Trust me, you'll need all the help you can get.” He hands Diggle a seemingly skintight top with no sleeves.  
“How do you survive in the summer?” he asks.  
“Gets pretty cold at night. And Gotham isn't as warm and inviting as Starling.”   
Dig strips his shirt and puts on the one that Jason had given him. It was more solid than he realized and it turns out that it's a bi-weave of metal and fabric. The he hands him the armor and it's a long-sleeve thing. The metal plating has a weird sort of feel.  
“What's this made out of?”  
“Impact technology.”  
Jason hands him another shirt and it's gray-black. Another sleeved shirt? That's two.   
“It goes over the armor.”  
“And how do you suppose that they won't realize I'm not you? There's a little color difference.”  
“We'll get there, just slow down.” Jason hands him a side-arm and a holster. “This will wrap around your hip and your right thigh.” Dig straps it in and slides the gun into it.   
“It's a good fit.” Dig says.  
“It's adjustable for a reason.” Jason scoffs.  
“Anything else?”  
“You'll need this.” Jason pulls out a knife. It's black.  
“Jay, that's not your usual knife.” Dick glances over at him.  
“I know it's not. But I've used this one with them too.”  
“What's the real reason for not giving him your current knife?” Dick asks.  
“Because.”  
Dick frowns. “Whatever, Jay.”  
“Here you go. The knife goes at your other hip.”  
“Do I want to know what's in the pockets of these cargo pants?” Dig asks, thinking of the jacket and its many... objects.   
“Well, I'd check to see what's in them so you know where things are. And here's the boots.” He hands them to Diggle and they don't seem to be much different from combat boots.  
“There's a knife in the soles if you give them a pretty good stomp. I haven't used this pair in a little while, so I don't know if that'll work. It should, but I'd test it before a fight.”  
“Okay. So what's your answer to the facial problem?”  
“Do you know why I'm called the Red Hood?”  
“Let me guess you wear a red hood?”  
“That's only in public places during the day, and even then I usually wear a blue one from Dick.” Jason says.  
He opens a drawer under the table and pulls out a helmet. It has a weird shine in the lighting of the cave. “This is why I'm called the Red Hood.”  
“But it's a helmet. Wouldn't you be called the Red Helmet?”  
Oliver chuckles. “Diggle, it's about theatricality. I bet he's got the scary to name to frighten people”  
Jason strides over to him with a insane-looking fire burning in his eyes. They have an almost eerie glow. “I have the scary name for a different reason, and it's none of your business as to what it is. But I can tell you...” Dig had never taken the knife Jason offered him and he puts it to Oliver's throat. “It's not theatricality.”  
Dig pulls the gun at his back.  
“You don't actually think I leave them loaded do you?” Jason asks, not taking his eyes from Oliver.  
“Dig, stand down. H...”  
“Jason, that's enough!” Bruce scolds him.  
Jason pulls the knife away and laughs. “Come on, Bruce. I'm just having a little conversation.”  
“I'm sure, now come on so we can catch our flight.”  
Jason stabs the knife into the table and Diggle just stares at it. They leave the cave and Oliver swallows.  
“He seemed easy-going except for his habit of killing. And his eyes. Did you see them?”  
“No, what's up?”  
“They had this strange glassy tint to them when he got angry.”  
“You sure?” Dig asks.  
Oliver narrows his eyes. “Makes me wonder if something’s wrong.”  
Jason comes racing back in. “Hey, Diggle! I forgot to tell you something.”  
“And what's that?”  
“The drop spots for the boss' money.” he hands him a list. And then he hands him a secure location. “And leave it here.”  
“Okay, now go have a good vacation.” Dig tries to sound charitable.   
“I shall surely try. With Bruce you never know.” He waves a hand in the air. “We'll be running through the mountains and he'll say almost there with five minutes or five miles left! And don't worry, the ammo is easy to find!” He runs to the jet and leaves Dig and Oliver staring after them.  
“What are you staring at? It's just Jason.” Roy asks, coming out of the bathroom after a good once-over of his new hair color.   
“I don't know Oliver, he seems pretty normal to me.”  
“No one here is normal!” Roy defends him.  
“I know you spent time with him in the Outlaws...” Oliver starts.  
“Yeah, and he saved my life more times than I can count. If you guys are going to criticize, I'll be the Red Hood, and Diggle can find a way to make a black Nightwing work.”  
“I'm with Roy. Anything that happened to him is in the past, and if you can't trust Batman's son, what's he going to think the next time he asks for our help? Wait, I think I know. 'He doesn't trust my son, which means he doesn't trust the people I work with. He can't trust my judgment.' How is he going to be able to depend on you in a fight if you can't trust the allies of your allies?”  
“The allies of my allies aren't always my friend.”  
“That's very poetic Oliver, but how will Batman feel about it?”  
“OH MY GOSH, THESE COMPUTERS ARE GORGEOUS!” Felicity's excited squeal comes from over by the big-screen.   
Oliver chuckles. “Where's his work-out equipment? I don't see a...”  
“What, salmon ladder? Training dummies? Mats and metal sticks? Oliver, this is Batman and he's probably got all of his training stuff put away in some secret hidey-hole.”  
“Or his training all occurs on the streets.”  
Diggle thinks about acting as the Red Hood. “Where am I patrolling, anyway?”  
“You get Crime Alley and most of Bludhaven.” Roy answers.  
“Most of Bludhaven?” Dig asks.  
“The rest is Nightwing's territory, and he's also got a nice hunk of downtown Gotham. And Batman has the rest of Gotham and what's left of down-town.”  
“It seems like the Red Hood doesn't have that much territory.” Dig says.  
“Actually, the Red Hood has most of Bludhaven, and that's almost as large as Gotham itself. Nightwing and the Red Hood kind of share the rest, so it's kind of neutral territory that he doesn't have.”  
“Oh. So he patrols all of it every night?”  
“He's a rich man's kid. He doesn't attend meetings, they have a pool and his other brothers. Dick is the only one who has a job. He can sleep all day, but yeah. He does it every night, picks up his cash every Friday, drops it off at his stash house. That little note he gave you should give you directions to the hidey-hole for the cash.”  
“I thought the building would be the hidey-hole for the cash.”  
“Leaving bags of cash on the floor in a house in Bludhaven isn't really the best plan. So yes, there's a hiding spot for the money in the house.”   
“Is Jason the only one in the family who makes money from his vigilantism?”  
“Yes. Now that he's back at home he shares about a third of it with Bruce. Oh and there should also be a list of the people under the Red Hood's protection from Batman. Which means, that yes, if Batman tries to take in someone under your protection, you have to fight him, but hey, the cost of doing business.”  
“You seem to know a lot about his day-to-day life, Roy.” Oliver furrows his brow.  
“So, we're friends. Oh, and Dig.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Hope you've brushed up on your building jumping skills.”  
“Yeah, sure.”  
“Dig, you have a reputation to uphold. You have to be relentless, and skilled. If you get shot, they'll know that something's up.”  
“Okay, I got it.”  
“Here's his work phone. You get a distress signal from the people you protect and you go to them. It shouldn't happen very often. It should be business as usual.” Roy grabs his eskirma sticks and slides them into the X position and slips his mask on. Roy looks Dig over, not needing to know how he looks. Roy looks almost the same except for the height. “You look pretty good. Now, give me your best Red Hood imitation.”   
Dig slips the helmet over his head and it locks into position. “I don't know something he would say.”  
The voice that comes from the helmet sounds just right. “Huh, he must have programmed it. Guess you don't have to try to imitate him.”  
“Good. Because I don't know his scary voice.”  
“I learned to copy voices from Jason, so...” he pauses for a second. His voice turns lighter, but somehow with deeper tones and emotions. “Hope you haven't been a bad little criminal.” he laughs, and sounds just like Dick.  
“Now that's just creepy.” Dig responds.  
He looks over at Oliver, who had joined Felicity over at the computers. She's babbling along like nothing's changed. “See, Oliver. If we got a cave...”  
“Felicity, we can't get a cave in Starling.”  
“Well, your underground bunkers sure seem great, but now that we're here, this is awesome. And the Quiver is fun and all, but look at these computers!”  
“Well, I don't have as much money as I once had. So computers like this don't come easy.”  
“Fine, you know what? I'm good with what we have.” She smiles.  
The computer alarm goes off and Oliver whips towards the screen. “What's that?”  
“We got an alert for crime towards the west side of Gotham. It's a supposed drug deal about to go down. Go!” Oliver and Miss Martian race towards the Batmobile, Miss Martian morphing into Robin along the way.  
“What do we do?” Dig asks.  
“We go to our territories. Batman's problems aren't your problems.” Roy hands him a pair of leather gloves with peaks of metal where the knuckles are. “Jason's motorcycle is over there with Dick's.”  
Dig moves towards it and kick starts it. The motor runs nice and smooth and it started right up. He pulls out and follows input instructions into the little screen above the speedometer. He arrives in the territory and finds that it isn't too hard to find crime.  
“Destination, Crime Alley.” Dig sighs. Who calls a place Crime Alley?   
He spends about five hours stopping muggings and stuff like that, and gives them one-time warnings. One of the guys tells him that he already got a warning.  
“I'm in a generous mood today, so I'm going to let you go, on the condition that this doesn't happen again.”  
The guy nods immediately and runs off into the darkness. He ends up shooting two men and cringes as he fires. No wonder that guy ran off as fast as he did. The reputation he's upholding is almost maddening. A late-night bank robbery comes up and he takes care off the threat. It's about three in the morning when he calls it a night.   
Roy checks back in an hour after that and Oliver stayed out until five. He's pulling his Arrow hours.   
…..... Meanwhile, at top speed in the Bat-jet  
Dick is sleeping in his co-pilot's seat, his black mess of hair swept to one side by his lolling head. Even the slight turbulence doesn't seem to bother him. Jason is also sleeping on Tim's left. Tim is lying on his back with his eyes on the ceiling. Damian is also asleep on his right. The back of the jet is filled with the soft sounds of breathing.   
It's been about an hour since they left and Tim still can't sleep in the jet. Jason tells him that after a few long flights in it, he'll be able to, but he never can. Bruce is flying, but after a few minutes, he sets the jet on auto-pilot and unbuckles his harness. He unbuckles Dick's silently and picks him up out of the seat.   
The seats in the back of the jet fold back into cots and the metal moves away from the bottom to give it some stretch. The fabric is a similar bi-weave to Jason's armor.   
Tim closes his eyes before Bruce walks by. He settles Dick on the cot the farthest back, which is next to his. It goes oldest to youngest.  
Bruce, Dick  
Jason, Tim, Damian  
Then it's the cockpit. So sleeping in between the people who want to kill him the most is a little crazy, but that's the sleeping arrangements that Bruce made.  
“Tim, we'll be in position in about seven hours. So, I suggest you get some sleep before then.” Bruce rolls onto his cot and closes his eyes. Tim sighs and sleep finally comes to him. His dreams are strange. It's as if he's endlessly falling and suddenly he's walking in the dense undergrowth. He can grab onto clouds and then a roar rips through the air. It's the sound of a dragon.  
He never should have let Jason talk him into watching How to Train Your Dragon the night before. How someone as dangerous as Jason can like something so innocent is beyond him. Then again, he never actually touched the movie. Come to think of it, it looked like Jason slept through it. Ten bucks says he did it for Dick.  
Tim woke with a start. Jason looks over at him and smirks. Tim frowns and sits up, rubbing his eyes. Damian and Jason are on the same cot playing 'Rock, Paper, Scissors' and Damian picked Sword, while Jason picked Paper.  
“Come on, Dami. That wasn't even fair.” Jason complains.  
“Oh, and you're so fair yourself.” Damian answers, a little louder than necessary.  
“Shh. Dick's still sleeping.” Jason quiets him.  
Damian looks back at him and Dick's chest rises and falls with steady breaths. “Sorry.” Bruce is up in the cockpit again and the sun is starting to shine above the horizon.   
Damian moves up there with him. “How far out are we?”  
“About ten minutes. Get Jason to wake Dick, would you?”  
“Okay.”   
Damian goes back to the cargo bay and informs Jason of his duties. Jason nods and heads back to the side of Dick's cot.  
“Dick.” He puts a hand on his arm.  
Dick's hand surges towards Jason's face when Jason shakes him and Jason barely has time to catch it. The surprise registers on Dick's face and he pulls his hand away.  
“Sorry.” he smiles. “Habit.”  
“Yeah, I know.” Jason taps his shoulder and heads back up to his own cot.  
Tim's eyes are wide in surprise. Guess he'll have to keep that in mind the next time he wakes Dick up. If he ever does. Dick stretches his morning acrobat stretch, even with the turbulence and the small space in between the cots. Tim watches in horror as Jason goes and joins him. Jason has never been terribly flexible. But to his surprise, it all goes well.  
“Jay, have you been practicing?”  
“Me? No, just worked on slower movements and letting it all flow together. Speed, not flexibility was most of my problem.” he whispers to him.  
Then Damian went over and joined them too. Tim would, but he knows for a fact that he can't do half of what they're doing. Dick gets back to his feet and inhales deeply, his muscles rippling as a shiver passes through him. He opens up his travel pack and pulls out a hoodie, slipping it on over his head. Damian finishes a little after both of them, having started later and starting from the beginning of the motions.  
Bruce turns his head. “Three minutes to the drop! Get ready!”  
Dick gets his pack from the wall and slings it on and Jason follows. “Come on, Tim. Unless you plan on jumping from the jet without a parachute.”  
Tim frowns. Jason always seems to think that he's ahead. Tim hops up and grabs his chute. And Damian gets strapped in before him, even though he got to his first.   
“Don't worry, Tim. I never had to have you jump out of an airplane much, so you'll be a little slow.” Bruce calls back, getting up and grabbing his chute too.  
Tim is having trouble with one of the straps and Dick brushes past him towards the bay, clipping it correctly on the way by. Bruce may not have had him jump much, but he had chute drills a couple of times. Dick opens the back hatch.  
“30 seconds!” Bruce announces. “Dick, get ready! Jason, Tim, Damian! I 'll follow you out.”Bruce straps in faster than all of them, clipping his pack on the front.  
Dick grabs his travel pack and clips it to the front of his chute straps, Jason does the same. Tim and Damian grab their stuff too and Bruce secures them.  
“Ten seconds!”  
Dick gets ready to jump.  
“Five. Go, Dick!” Dick takes a flying leap out of the plane. “Jason!” a second passes. “Tim! Damian!”  
Tim looks up and Sees Bruce bail out above him and the jet closes up, seeming to turn invisible. Below him Dick is diving towards the ground with Jason hot after him.  
They have coms so that when or if they land in different places, finding them will be easier.  
“Dick, you've hit 3,200 meters. Pull!”  
“Come on, Bruce! You know I've always done it from about 2,700!”  
“You grown since then, pull!”  
“Fine! 2,900 meters. Pulling!” Dick's chute pops and the air catches in it, shooting him up past Jason.  
“Pulling!” Jason shouts.  
Tim looks at his altimeter and pulls, 2,800 meters.  
“Pulling!” Damian calls.  
Tim looks down just in time to see Bruce pull his chute. It's all black and it makes him wonder at the shape. He twists his head for another angle. It's a bat.  
He sees Damian's and it's a fiery bird with golden eyes. Tim looks up at his own. His is covered in red streaks and the rest is black. He can't see past his own chute, but he has a feeling that they're all custom. Tim looks down at the ground and all he sees are mountains and trees. Dick is moving towards something below him, but Tim can't see what it is through the chute. He realizes that the chute that Dick is using is towards his costume, and so is Jason's. The wind is still catching Tim's chute, so now Damian and Bruce are above him, and Jason and Dick are below him. Jason's has a pair of creepy eyes staring back at him.  
“Dick, shift 6 degrees east.” Bruce instructs. “There should be a small clearing below you, can you see it?”  
“Yeah. I got it. Where are we anyway?”  
“We're deep in the Tibetan mountains, a heavily forested area.”  
“Awesome.” Jason says.  
“Landing.” Dick calls. “Couple hundred feet. Touchdown.”   
“Coming in right behind you Dick, get out of the way.” Jason shifts to land in the same area.  
Dick moves his fallen chute so Jason doesn't get tangled in it. “Okay, clear to land, Jay.”  
“Touching down.” Jason settles where Dick landed and moves his chute.  
Tim lands harder than he expects and stumbles to the ground.  
“Tim, get a move on, or Damian will land on you!” Jason yells.  
Tim scrambles to the tree line and gathers up his chute. Damian lands shortly after him and doesn't stumble. Tim grits his teeth. Even Jason was more graceful than him, and he's not known for that at all. Damian gathers up his chute and Bruce lands behind him.  
“Hope you didn't forget anything, because we can't get back to the jet until we finish the trek through the mountains. The jet will land at the designated point and it should take us about two weeks to go through the route I have planned. Pack your chutes, then put them on this. It will take them back to the jet.”  
He pulls out a collapsible jet and it unfolds to about ten feet wide, and four feet tall. Bruce packs his up and sets it in while Dick and Jason take off their harnesses and start packing, taking their travel bags from the front. Tim folds his up, the one thing that he remembered how to do today. Dick and Jason throw their bags in and Damian after that. Tim may have remembered how to pack a chute, but that doesn't mean he's particularly fast at it. He throws his in last. The little hatch on the top closes up and the thrusts fire, leaving them with their travel packs and their wits.  
“I hope you boys packed warm.” Bruce smiles.  
Damian shivers a little and pulls a cloak out of his bag, clipping it around his shoulders and pulling up the hood. Bruce opens his rucksack and hands each of them a harness, then he picks up his travel pack and pulls out a warm coat. He zips both bags back up and slings them to the ground.  
“Two weeks is a long vacation. Bruce. You think they'll last that long?”  
“The Arrow team are well-versed in vigilante nights. They can handle it.” Bruce slips his coat on and zips it. He slings his bags over his shoulder. “Get anything you want out of your bags now. I'll get us moving on the trail and...”  
“What trail?”  
“My trail. I've done it every three years or so since I became Batman, so it won't be very obvious to anyone but me.”  
“Okay. So we're going where?”  
“Once we get going, there's a stream where we'll fill our water bottles.”  
“But I came with mine full.” Damian answers.  
“You sure?” Bruce looks at him with a questioning brow. “I may or may not have emptied them. The water from the stream is fresher than anything you''ll bring from the city. Trust me. Now, come on! I won't wait forever, and you lot look like you're gonna get antsy pretty fast here in the open.”  
The boys pick up their stuff and follow Bruce into the trees. Dick doesn't seem at all bothered by the sudden chill of the air and mountains. Tim didn't grab what he should have from his bag and now he feels cold. He didn't think that it would be more freezing under the thick canopy of the forest. Tim grimaces again. He's supposed to be the smart one.  
Tim trails at the back of the group, kicking at small stones and rocks, only looks up to see where everyone is. About fifteen minutes pass as he does this, and it all goes by in silence. Surprise is imminent.   
“We're here.” Bruce's call causes him to jerk into alertness.   
…...... Jason(ish)POV  
It figures somehow that Bruce would empty their water bottles before they left. But, at least he has a place for better water than there is in Gotham, apparently. The stream that Bruce was talking about doesn't seem very glorified to Jason. It's frozen on the top, but he can hear the trickle of water under it. Bruce breaks a hole through the ice with his hand and lets the water trail through his fingertips for a moment before spreading the hole so water bottles will fit. He takes a sip of it and sighs.  
“Fresh as ever.” he gets out his water bottle and fills it, taking another gulp of water.  
Jason raises an eyebrow. It can't be that great, can it? Dick fills his, and out of curiosity for Bruce's reaction, he takes a drink. He coughs at something about it.  
“Whoa.” He coughs again, now that the water worked its way down his throat wrong.  
“It's just water. Don't die, Dick.” Jason smirks.  
Dick clears his throat. “Just, wishing that all water in Gotham was that good. And trying not to kill myself with water.”  
Jason fills his bottle next and Tim after that. Damian takes a drink and nods approvingly.  
“Reminds me of the water in the mountains close to Ras Al' Guhl's palace.” Damian smirks.  
“Yeah, we get it, Demon Spawn, you miss home.” Tim mumbles.  
“Tim.” Bruce admonishes.   
“No, it's okay, Father. I'm sure that Tim just doesn't realize that my home isn't at the palace anymore. He doesn't know that I spent a short time in a monastery and long hours of training leaving that place behind. And I'm sure that he also doesn't realize that the manor is my home now.”  
“Damian.” Bruce scowls. “That's enough quarrel. Let's get a move on. We need to be at the foot of the first mount before noon.”  
Damian and Tim cross their arms and Dick snickers. Jason smiles wryly. They never could go more than a couple hours or so without arguing. Bruce leads them there at a fairly steady pace, and Dick and Jason snicker about something every once and a while, just talking about random things.   
…..... Meanwhile, at the cave, two days later: Day 3  
“How's it been going Oliver?” Dig asks.  
Oliver has a hint of dark circles under his eyes, betraying his lack of sleep. “Just glad that I don't have to figure out a way to attend Bruce's meetings.”  
“That's what vacation days are for.” Bruce's butler announces his presence.  
Oliver turns immediately. “Great, his butler is sneaky too.”  
“Butler/Paramedic/Get-away driver, to you Mister Queen.”  
“I'd love to see that on a job description.” Felicity snorts.  
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss?”  
“Smoak. Well, Queen.”  
“Ah.” Alfred smiles knowingly with a hint of mischief in his kind eyes. “Congratulations, Missus Queen.”   
“Thank you.” She extends her hand to shake and he takes it.  
“I look forward to seeing you in the cave again after this venture.”  
“Me too. This place is awesome.”  
Roy comes into the cave, looking weary. He sets his eskirma sticks on Dick's table and peels the mask from his face. He breathes heavily.  
“You okay, Roy? You look like you got hit by a truck.” Dig asks.  
“I did. I'm just tired.” Roy treads over to his cot that Bruce had set up. They all have one in different corners of the cave. Though, how Bruce knew that Oliver and Felicity had been sleeping together was beyond him, the large bed for two was a nice surprise.   
Oliver had explored the rooms, but had never ventured above the cave. He found a control room of sorts and asked Felicity to help him figure it out.  
-  
“Oliver, it's a training course. And right now it's set on...... 'Try this with no skills, I dare you'.” Felicity giggles.  
“How long is the course?”  
“Two hundred meters.”  
“Long course. I'll check it out later.”  
….......Later  
Oliver tells Felicity to run the course as he waits at the starting line. It's only when the course is over does he understand why the name is what it is. Oliver walks slowly back to the beginning, his small cuts and scratches all over making him grimace.  
Day 4  
Oliver.  
Oliver soars over Gotham on his wings, still a little unsteady and unpracticed. He's getting used to the schedule that he has to keep to maintain enough energy for his long nights. Tonight, the first thing that came up was a hostage crisis. Oliver snuck into the place where they were all being held at gunpoint, knocked out the man and turned him in.   
Then he had gone to the border of Gotham and Bludhaven and took out some drug dealers, but Diggle had received their distress and fought him off, quite effectively. Oliver had needed to retreat to keep from being blown up.  
He went back to the center and stopped a drug deal, some cackling moron in red swinging a hammer, talking about her lover going to Arkham. Then there was this woman dressed in black, more flexible than even Sarah and she had flirted with him and she got away with a lot of diamonds.  
“Geez, Bruce. You really know how to pick em'.” he smirks.  
He stops two muggings after that, and got into another tangle with Diggle, who ran him off again. Usually Dig would hold back, but being the Red Hood must have pulled out his ruthless side, that and he has a reputation to uphold in being unmerciful. Oliver goes home, and most of his battering was from Diggle and the red hammer lady and Cat Woman.

Diggle.  
Friday. Time to pick up drug money. He heads to the first rally point, where four duffles are waiting for him. He picks them up and loads them into the beautiful 1968, deep blue, Camaro with a double-white stripe on the rear end. He heads to the next rally point and it's the same, but this time three larger duffles. The one after it has five smaller ones, and he goes to the rest of the eight bosses drop points and picks up the cash.  
Of course, what shouldn't have happened, happened. He picks up his phone to a frantic man shouting out his location and saying that Batman was on his heels. Dig hurries there and faces Oliver. He doesn't feel any sort of pleasure running him off, but he has to protect Jason's territory. He doesn't know him all that well, but Oliver judging him in two seconds flat had angered him, and it made him want to help all the more.  
And it went on the that for the next few days. They didn't hear from Roy much, as he kept to himself and used Dick's apartment instead of returning to the base.   
Day 11  
And with only three days left, they are bordering in exhaustion.  
“How Does Bruce do this every night, all year long? I thought that Starling had a large crime rate, but geez.”   
“The same way that you used to when you were first starting, just, with more endurance and practice.”  
Oliver flops onto the bed and passes out cold, and he sleeps from 5:30 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. Dig has never, ever seen Oliver sleep that long, even under sedatives.   
…..... Day 4, Batfam  
Jason grimaces as his sore fingers bend painstakingly into a small crack. Just ahead of him ,Dick isn't fairing much better. Bruce is the only one who isn't having issues.  
“Bruce, how much father?” Jason calls to him, looking back at Tim and Damian. Damian is fine, but Tim's arms are starting to quiver.  
“About three minutes.”  
“Good.” He doesn't say anything towards Tim's benefit, for that would just pit Jason and Tim against each other. They are a few hundred feet from anything close to a reasonable ledge to sit on in all directions.   
Just ahead of him, Dick shivers with a very sudden chill, almost making him lose his grip. Jason reaches a hand out to his back to steady him and he can feel his whole body shaking with effort and cold. Jason looks back again, and if he looks at Damian's little bundle of cloak just right, he can see the edges shaking. Jason and Tim aren't much better themselves.  
Bruce holds up a hand for them to stop and pulls on something on the side of the mountain. A small patch of snow moves and opens to reveal a large hole in the cliff face. Bruce moves to the side and gestures for them to climb in. Dick crawls in and Bruce's worried frown is Jason's only comfort. Jason crawls in after him and pulls him further away from the entrance. Damian and Tim huddle in close to them and Bruce comes in last, closing off the entrance. Dick's shivers die down, and he huddles as close to his brothers as he can.  
Bruce pulls something from a slot in the wall and he sets it on the floor. The clatter of dry wood gets Jason's attention in the dark room as his silhouette moves to grab something else. A fire crackles to life and he gestures for them to move closer to it, pulling out blankets from the slit above his head. He hands one to Dick, and one to Jason. Dick wraps his around him and Damian, and Jason uses his, for himself and Tim.   
Jason suddenly wonders what else he has stored in here. A coffee maker, perhaps? Maybe that's too hopeful. Bruce grabs his rucksack and pulls a small rack out of it, putting it over the fire. He grabs four metal thermoses out of the bag too and turns around, putting something in them. Then he gets out a few spare water bottles and pours water into each one. He sets them on the rack and waits. Jason watches in the strange light as the liquid seems to change to a dark color.  
No way.  
Bruce deems them hot enough and stirs them, handing one to each boy with a smile. Jason takes a drink first, because Dick's hands are shaking to much still to do much more than hold it, and Tim and Damian look suspiciously at their own. Jason groans at the wonderful taste that meets his mouth.  
Hot chocolate. He takes another sip, and another, letting the warmth fill his body. And finally, Tim and Damian work up the courage to taste their own. Dick moves his hands slowly up to his mouth and takes a swallow. A warm, sleepy look washes over his face and his smiles contently. Jason drinks slowly, savoring every drop of the precious liquid. Damian doesn't finish his before he lays down to sleep and Tim doesn't finish either.   
Jason on the other hand, makes sure to finish it all, while Dick still drinks slowly. Dick does indeed finish it, but Jason can tell it's taking a great effort to stay awake to do so. Dick licks his lips then scoots from the bundle that is Damian in front of him and lies down on the other side of the fire. Jason moves around Tim and closes the circle. He can almost feel Bruce's smile from where he lies. He and Dick are sleeping head to head, and he can hear Bruce shuffling to grab something.  
He taps Jason on the shoulder, another blanket in his hand. He unfolds it and gently lays it where Jason's head would be if it were on the ground, and picks Dick's already-sleeping one off the floor and slides it under his too.  
Day 5  
Dick wakes up to something strange. A rattling of some sort. He turns his head to listen for it and realizes that the rattling is Bruce cleaning up the small fireplace. The room is once again dark, but Dick finds that it isn't hard to see his silhouette against the darkness.  
He can hear steady, but not asleep breaths next to him.  
“Morning, Jay.” Dick whispers, not knowing if the younger ones are awake.  
“Dick.” Jason huffs. So shiny all the time? Major eye-roll.  
Fifteen minutes later, they're on their way to the next peak. Damian put on a different cloak from his bag. It's white, and supposedly with thermal capabilities. Dick swapped his thick hoodie, for an actual winter coat, and Jason stuck on another shirt under his leather jacket. Tim got out a thick winter coat, like Dick had. Bruce chuckled.  
5 hours later  
Bruce plants another line and hooks up to it, securing another place along their cord. Dick glances behind him and he's just in time to see Jason grip a weak hand-hold. He shifts his weight to it and it breaks.  
“Jay!” Dick shouts.  
Jason falls only a short distance as he pulled something from his waistband and jammed it into the rock. His silver knife.  
Dick leans his head against the cold rock wall and exhales a breath of relief. Jason climbs his way back up to his place and secures himself there.  
“Were you expecting to almost fall to your death?” Dick asks.  
“Or I figured one of you would fall and I could give you a hand-hold.”  
“So that's why you didn't give Dig your current knife. You brought it with you.” Dick chuckles.  
Bruce makes his way back to them. “Jason, you alright?”  
“Yeah, I'm super.” Jason assures him.  
“Good. We have to get moving, because there seems to be some kind of storm coming in. We'll be at the next rest spot in an hour or so. Rush ,but do so cautiously.”  
Jason looks over his shoulder at Tim and Damian and they start picking up the pace. Dick moves quickly ahead of him, but testing his hand-holds before he uses them.  
A thought occurs to Dick. Now, would be a really bad time to have to go to the bathroom.   
Bruce plucks on ahead and the rest of them follow diligently. He flexes his fingers, trying to work the stiffness out of them. Dick looks back every couple of minutes, just to ensure that his brothers are still there and not falling to the bottom.  
…... Rest spot  
Dick and Jason flop into the little cave and lie down on the ground. Dick pulls off his wet gloves and smirks, putting his cold hands on Jason's warm neck. Jason jolts forwards.  
“Dick!” Jason scowls. Damian and Tim come in next and Bruce shuts the door behind him. “Keep your cold hands away from me.”  
Dick laughs.  
….... Basically, the rest of the trip goes off without a hitch, a couple of slips, a bro bonding moment or two, seeing the bat-jet for the first time in two weeks.  
Day 14 Batfam  
Bruce smiles as he sees the faint outline of the jet in a hundred yards or so. Jason sees it first, but he's to tired to run for it. He nudges Dick and he looks up. Damian doesn't look up until Tim announces it.  
“The bat-jet! Best day ever!”  
Bruce smiles and trudges on through the snow. Their joy is contagious though. Going through it by himself was pretty simple, but keeping track of his kids too was just a hassle. They reach the jet and it turns visible. Bruce opens up the hatch and the boys practically jump in. Bruce sets the course for Gotham and settles in for a nice long nap.   
Jason and Dick are asleep the minute their heads hit the pillow, and so is Tim. Damian is awake for a second or two longer, as climbing mountains is second nature to him.   
Day 14, the cave  
Oliver practically collapses onto his bed, making the springs bounce. He never realized how many encounters with Dig he would have. Knowing who not to mess with might have been handy. Roy seemed to be doing great, but then again, Roy has always been good at vigilante stuff. He was a good Red Arrow and he was good in the Outlaws too. Though he won't admit the part about the Outlaws.   
Dig had settled in well, and Oliver had not really thought about how many people the Red Hood had under his protection. He knows now that it's a lot. Roy stayed out of his way, but Oliver caught sight of him on the borders of the territory between Gotham and downtown. Miss Martian was a real help to him, but she tended to avoid them at the cave. She was tired of being Robin. That much was obvious.   
A whirring sound from just outside caught his attention. The bat-jet flies in and lands. Oliver sighs in relief, and he sees Diggle do the same. Roy walks in and peels the mask off his face, looking almost disappointed. Oliver thought he seemed pretty opposed to the idea of playing Nightwing at first, but he seems okay with it now. Dig strips his weapons and lays them on Jason's table. He takes off the thigh holster, and boots, then the leather jacket. He pulls the two guns from his waistband of his cargo pants, and the black knife that Jason had put to Oliver's throat.  
He actually likes that knife.  
Then he strips the two shirts, and the armor.   
The back hatch opens up and the boys stroll out. Oliver had just hung up the cape and cowl and Roy had changed back into his jeans and t-shirt, placing Dick's costume with the eskirma sticks on the table.  
Bruce approaches Oliver and shakes his hand. “Thanks for keeping Gotham in check.”  
“You're just lucky Starling is moving pretty slowly.”  
“What was your excuse for the mayor leaving for two weeks?”  
“Same as you. Vacation.”  
“I owe you one. Thanks again, Oliver.”  
Oliver nods and calls for Felicity.  
“Coming!” Bruce smiles at her instant reaction.  
“Come on Diggle. Get changed. It's time to go home.”   
Diggle grabs his fresh clothes and heads to a changing room. Roy shakes Dick's hand and accepts a short hug.  
“Thanks, Roy.”  
“It was my pleasure, Dick. Anytime.”  
“Someday, I might just take you up on that.”  
Thankfully, Tim doesn't patrol very often, so no replacement was necessary for him. Miss Martian approaches Damian though and he accepts a hug and thanks her.  
“No problem Damian. Just, don't call on me very often and we'll call it even.”   
Diggle comes out of the changing room and puts the cargo pants on the table, then moving to shake hands with Jason.  
“Thanks Dig. Hope it wasn't too much trouble.”  
“No, it was no problem. I hope to see you again sometime.”  
“Me too. See you soon, Diggle.” Jason hugs him and even gets him to fist-bump.   
Bruce smirks at that. Oliver is still a little disconcerted by Jason, but Diggle seems fine with him. Bruce escorts them back to their van that they came in on the border of Gotham. Thankfully the location of the cave still remains secret.


	10. Ransom Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been about four months since their vacation, and Bruce has always expected this to happen. It has before, so it doesn't come as a shock when a ransom call for his son's reaches his ears. The only difference is, who has them.

The phone rings in Bruce's study and he picks it up. “Hello?”  
A distorted voice on the other end speaks. “We have your sons, and if you don't pay the ransom, you won't get them back. We will call in one hour with proof of life and with our demands.” The line cuts off and the dial tone takes over.  
A hour passes by with horrid slowness. Bruce paces across the room. He heads to the cave and traces the last call made to his home phone. Siberia. He hadn't heard much from his boys in a while, but that was normal. They always took time to themselves without warning.   
The phone rings again. “Here's your proof.”  
“Bruce.” Dick's voice comes over the phone.   
“Dick. How are the others?”  
He hears a small scuffle. “No, Dad, don't do it! Don't do it!”  
“There's your proof.” the man growls. “You have one day to bring 500,000 dollars in cash to Gotham port. You will leave the money there and we will return your sons to you.”  
He can hear the other boys shouting at him not to respond to the demands. Jason's plea is the most obvious.  
“Don't you dare Bruce! Don't even think about it!”  
“Shut up!” Someone shouts at them.  
They keep yelling. He hears the sound of metal against flesh and a very Dick-like groan is heard through the receiver.  
“Don't touch him!” Jason snarls.  
Tim and Damian are hurling insults to the man who hit Dick.  
“One day, and not a second more.” He hangs up.  
Bruce snarls at the phone and throws it against the wall. The tracked position still puts them in Siberia. He decides to listen to his sons. He would do anything to get them back, but he wouldn't do something that they don't want him to to get them back.   
Bruce trusts that they will find a way back. If they don't come home in a week, Bruce will go looking. They have to come back, they have to.  
…...24 hours later, Siberia.  
“It seems that your father doesn't care for you as much as we thought. We have received word from Gotham that no ransom has been paid. It seems that you will be staying with us for a long while.” The man smirks.  
A man opens the door. He looks vaguely Russian with a scar that goes from his eye to his jawline. Jason scowls at him.  
He asks the man with the phone, who is most definitely Russian a question. What they don't know is that all of the boys speak Russian.  
'What is the news on the father?'  
'He didn't pay the ransom, they are yours. You can take them to the camp.'  
'Thank you, Abram.'  
“Your name is Abram?” Jason asks. The man gives him a very ugly look. “Hey, that's cool. I'm not judging.”  
'Alexander, take them now, before they get on my nerves.'  
“Another 'A' name?” Dick asks. “Abram and Alexander. Huh.”  
Alexander hands Abram a duffle and he opens it, pulling out a small stack of cash and counting it. 'Thank you again, Alexander.'  
Alexander nods and leans back out the door and calls to his men. 'Come and get them!'  
Four huge guys come in the door and he instructs each one to a specific boy. Jason isn't planning on doing anything without Dick, and he's pretty out of it. Damian and Tim seem to think the same thing. They had hit him multiple times and it was only when he passed out did they quiet down. He was awake now, but his temple isn't looking so great and neither is he. He looks like he's about ready to throw up.  
Dick's guy yanks him to his feet and pushes him out the door and Jason is pushed out behind him. Jason tries to look back, but the man shoves his head back to forward-face. Jason smiles. His dad didn't give them what they wanted. A man stands about thirty feet in front of them, in the back of a canvas truck. There's a step and Dick falters when he reaches it, hesitating. The man pushes him up onto the block and the man in the truck grabs him under his left arm.   
Jason growls as the man ties Dick down in the back of the truck. Jason goes next and they tie him down too. He can see the men loading Tim and Damian in. When they reach for Damian he snarls at them.  
“Don't touch me.” he turns his nose up and steps up into the truck himself.  
He can hear Dick snicker next to him at the men's reactions. Jason looks at him and in spite of their current situation, he's smiling. The bruise on his head doesn't look that great, but the swelling doesn't seem to be bugging him. It actually seems to be going down. The truck starts up and the smile disappears. The road that they drive down is bumpy, and it makes Jason glad that they're sitting. They have all four boys scrunched up in the back, able to lean against each other, but no more. Dick leans his head on Jason's shoulder and goes to sleep.  
One of the men looks at them kind of creepily and Jason snarls at him. “Stay away, or you'll pay the price for your stupidity.'   
'What price is there that is more than what we have already paid for you?' the man laughs.  
Jason feels sick to his stomach. If he has to think about all the children being sold to these guys, he might actually throw up. Instead, he leans his head on Dick's and feigns sleep. He watches the man from under his lashes. He feels Tim rest against him and Damian's weight comes across Tim's body. Jason's lidded gaze flits to Tim. His eyes are shut. Damian's on the other hand, are not. Jason can tell that Damian is also only pretending to sleep.  
Minutes drip into hours as Jason counts them. Dick speaks quietly to him in Romani after a little while longer.  
“Dormi, Jay. Te voi proteja.” (Sleep, Jay. I'll protect you.)  
“Bine.” (okay)  
Jason closes his eyes the rest of the way and sleep comes to him. He dreams of his death again, and his Batman vs. Red Hood days. He wakes with a sharp breath of air and Dick looks up at him.   
“You okay?” he lifts his head from Jason's shoulder, wincing as his neck complains about the position.  
Jason nods. “I'm fine.”  
The truck brakes squeal and they slow to a stop. The flap is opened up and the man questions them in Russian. 'What are these?'  
'New.... workers.'  
Jason frowns. A labor camp?   
'Proceed.' he waves to the driver and the truck starts moving again. When they finally stop again, the brakes jerk them to a stop, less steady than last time.   
Jason is suddenly very glad that he left his leather and knives at home where they'll be safe. He doesn't want to have to stab someone in the head to get those back.   
The flap opens up again and the back is pulled down into a locked position. A couple of men jump up into the truck and take hold of Dick, quickly pulling the knot out of the rope that holds him down and pushing him out of the truck rather forcefully. The men who handle Jason aren't any nicer. They tie the ropes on their hands behind them and push them to a dark green tent.   
Jason scowls hard when he sees the people lined up for a meager meal in a line. Their hands all tied in front of them.   
A man with a heavy beard turns to them. His accent is even heavier. 'You will be fed two meals a day. You will have three strikes. On the third offense, your food privileges will be taken away. You will receive two sets of spare clothing and may keep what is on your backs. If you do not cooperate with us, you will be lashed. You will work for twelve hours a day, then return to your bunk.' he turns around. 'Walk with me.' A translator speaks as the man talks.  
Jason scoffs. Like we have much choice. He leads them to the far end of the tent where four empty bunks are standing.   
'Divide them how you like. Where you sleep does not matter to us. You will wake at the bell in the morning and turn in to sleep at the bell when night falls.' The translator is annoying.  
The men holding each of them just steer them to a bunk. It's almost dark now and Jason listens for the bell. It rings after a few moments and the place gets full. Their oppressors shove them into a bunk and ties their ropes through a hole at the head of the bed. Jason spits at one of his and he hits him in the mouth.  
“Jay!” Dick's voice comes through the sharp prick of pain in his head.   
They leave them to the darkness as the lanterns go out.  
“Jay, are you okay?” Dick asks.  
“I'm fine.” Jason says. He licks his lip and tastes blood. “Man, that guy hits like a girl.”  
Dick laughs. “Only you, Jay. Only you.”  
“Only me what? I'm telling the truth.”  
Dick laughs again and Damian and Tim join him. Their laughter must be at least a little contagious, because some of the other workers laugh with them. Jason laughs too until a gunshot breaks the noise and brings it to a screaming halt.  
“Quiet down!” the man with the gun shouts.   
Jason silently sneers at him. The voice belongs to Alexander.   
..  
The next morning doesn't bring any trouble, until Jason refuses to push in an endless circle to grind grain. Dick and the others didn't seem to care much for the idea either. The result isn't great, but he doesn't get a strike. They all get three lashes and they put separate ropes around their wrists and pull them through holes in the wooden push bar, causing Jason's hands to slam into position.   
He hears Damian cuss behind him. “Jammed my fingers.”  
Jason decides to get on with it. It's either stand and get lashed, or move and get fed what little they could have. A couple of the other workers on the two other arms shake their heads at him, warning him from any further rebellion. Jason pushes on through the day, even when exhaustion threatens to take over him.   
Ten hours end and he's sweating like crazy. Not that he's tired, it was just hot. After working the streets of Bludhaven for so long, tiredness doesn't come quickly.   
The work hours end and it's time for the second meal. Jason looks at Dick and he looks slightly dizzy.  
A whole week passes by like that. Jason and Damian both have two strikes, and Dick and Tim have one each. Dick almost had another, but it was ruled a misunderstanding. Dick had used his innocent doe eyes on them. How he did so with blue eyes is incredible to him. An upside, at least, is that they keep the brothers together. Not a great plan by them, but while working all the different jobs, they all studied the layout and made plans during the night.  
Some of the other workers heard them planning and asked what they could do. Riots. That was their answer. The workers laughed and told them that they were crazy. Jason laughed back and told them that they were. One of the workers said that he liked Jason for his insanity and reckless plan, and agreed. The others soon agreed too.  
The next morning, Jason wakes at the bell and nods to the workers. Today, was the day for escape. They had it all planned out. It would be an hour before the work hours were over. They wouldn't shoot them on the way out because they needed the workers, so heading for the small town to the west about a mile and a half away was a good plan. West was also where the patrols were weakest and there was close to no activity there. The other option was to go out the south side and move around the fence, but their chances of being spotted were greater there.   
They approached their stations and Jason saw the gap in patrols and gave the word at the top of his lungs. “Viva La Resistance!” (Live the Resistance)  
Dick smirks. Never should have let him watch Star Wars: The Force Awakens, in French. The workers revolt and their sheer numbers overwhelm the guards. Jason and his brothers slip out the west side without being spotted. They book it for the town.  
Jason smiles until he hears what sounds like dogs.   
“Escapees!” a man shouts and the sound of dogs barking makes him push faster.  
They've all lost weight, and are weak from small meals and receiving lashes, which makes them slow. But their strength is still there for the most part. The dogs are faster. They close in with scary speed and they are at their heels in no time at all. Damian turns around and catches one dog by the head and snaps its neck with an intensity only known to very protective people. The other dog is shortly behind, but far enough to put on speed again. Dick shouts at Damian to run and he does. He and Dick catch up to Jason and Tim and the dog closes in. It leaps for Tim, but Dick sees it and lunges in his direction.  
Jason barely has time to see the dog latch onto him before he turns around at his groan. The dog has him on the ground and is clamping harder on Dick's shoulder. Could be worse. Dick punches the dog and is yelps, letting him go. Jason leaps at it and immediately breaks its neck.  
He grabs Dick's arm. “Come on!”  
He hears a cry of victory from the encampment behind them and knows that the workers won. He sighs in relief as Dick pulls himself off the ground and starts running. The workers promised them a cry of victory that could be heard all the way in America. To Jason, though he knows it could never go that far, it sounds just that way.   
They make it to the town in just over seven minutes. They hurry into an alley and Dick leans against the wall, fighting for breath. He looks over his arm and groans, biting his lip.   
“We need a place to sleep.” Damian says.  
“Yeah. We've got one.”  
“Where?” Tim asks.  
“Here.” Jason responds.   
“Here? Are you insane?” Tim asks. “This is unsanitary. What happens if Dick's dog bite gets infected?”  
“We'll worry about it tomorrow. Right now we need food and rest. You three stay here, and I'll go find food.”  
“But Jas...” Damian starts. Jason almost smiled at the fact Damian nearly called him by his first name.  
“I lived on the streets. I know how to live here. If any of you know the nearest ATM then by all means, but this town doesn't look very modern. So just, let me take care of it.” Jason pauses and looks back at Dick's pleading gaze. Whether he's pleading for him to stay or do what he must, he doesn't know. Jason takes off and finds the nearest market. All towns have one, and right now, that's what he needs. Jason darts in. No doors, and the owner is gone. He grabs mostly fruits. Apples, a cantaloupe, jerky. Because every good market has jerky. He grabs a lot of jerky. He heads back to the alley. Dick is sitting up against the wall. Damian and Tim are tending to his bite wound and he's barely responding to it.  
Either he's lost a lot of blood, or he just doesn't care. Jason opens up the jerky and the awesome smell of meat reaches him. He kneels in front of Dick and hands him a piece. Dick takes it without hesitating and bites into it.  
“It's good. Thanks Jay.”  
“No problem.” Jason cracks open the cantaloupe and hands half of it to Dick. Dick scoops the seeds out with his hand and his fingers go easily through it. Must be a nice one. Dick takes a bite and smiles, handing it off to Tim.  
“That's a good one.” Dick wipes his mouth with the hem of his shirt. His left arm is still covered in blood, but the wound is wrapped.   
Tim takes a bite and spits it back out. “What is this?”  
“It's cantaloupe. And don't spit it out. That's the only one I grabbed. You may not like it very much, but the others do. Here, eat these.” Jason hands him the apples.  
Damian snatches the cantaloupe from Tim's hands and takes a bite, inhaling the scent and smiling. He looks the happiest Jason has ever seen him, which is weird, considering their predicament. Jason passes around the meat and the rest of the fruits and then gets Dick settled in in the way to protect him, but making sure he can still move if he must. Dick's back is to the wall and Tim and Damian are at his head and feet. Jason sleeps in front of him, creating a protective, semi-circle around him.   
He wakes up with a start in the morning, half-expecting to wake up back in the camp. Dick is still asleep, and so are Damian and Tim. The sun is barely rising, but the streets are washed yellow in the glow. Jason goes to stand on the street and bask in the sunlight. It feels so warm, and welcoming. He wanders back into the alley, still warmed by the morning glow.   
He checks Dick's wound and his smile disappears. It's an angry color of red, and the skin is all inflamed. He covers it back up. Jason heads back to the market after (definitely not pick-pocketing someone) and goes back to the store. He finds an inexpensive bottle of whiskey (small store, small town, everything is inexpensive) and buys it. When he returns to the alley, he finds them all still sleeping. Jason settles in front of Dick and taps his good shoulder. He doesn't wake immediately, but Jason gives him a second. His blue eyes flutter open and he sees Jason.  
“Morning Jay.”  
“I need you to sit up for me, okay?”  
Dick looks at him funny. “Okay.” he shifts into an upright position, avoiding using his bad arm.   
Jason unwraps his bottle and hands it to Dick. “Drink some of this.”  
“There had better be a good reason for getting me numb in the morning.” He opens the bottle and takes a sip. “Oh, gosh, that burns. What is this?”  
“Whiskey. Keep going.” Jason peels the makeshift bandage away from Dick's arm and he winces as the parts that stuck to him pull away from his arm. Dick looks at it with understanding eyes and takes a good swig of the stuff.  
“That's a pretty good reason.”  
Jason nods and asks for the bottle. Dick hands it to him and Jason takes a sip himself before pouring some over the bite marks. Dick bites his lip again, and if he bit any harder, he'd draw blood.   
“We need to get you some help.”   
“We should... ah... leave a note. They won't stay here if we don't.” Jason pours more whiskey on him while he speaks.  
“One good thing about not completely modern towns.”  
“Yeah? What's that?”  
“The alleys are made of dirt.” Jason hands the bottle back to Dick and goes about five feet away and draws his note into the ground. He stabs a stick into the ground to mark it for them.  
“Let's go.” He offers Dick a hand and he takes it.  
Much as Jason hates to draw attention to himself, he knocks on doors. The first three politely deny them help of any kind. Jason moves on, not caring. Just knowing that he needs to find help for Dick. Dick is tiring by the time they find another house and his eyelids are half-shut. He's still walking, but he won't be for long. Jason knocks on the door and a wise-looking woman opens the door. She looks Jason in the eyes and sees the desperation there and looks past him.  
Her eyes widen when she sees Dick. His clothes aren't in tatters or anything, but he's almost pale as a ghost. She looks back to Jason and nods, words not being needed. Jason backs down her three stairs and helps Dick up them.   
She gets Dick settled in on the small bed in her house and then turns to Jason. “Tell me what happened, then I shall tend to him.”  
“I don't know if you'll like what I have to say.” Jason answers.  
“Well, I doubt that anyone really does. I don't care what you say.”  
“Okay, uh. So there's four of us.”  
“Where are the other two?”  
“Waiting for us to come back.”  
“To where?”  
“The alley that we stayed in last night.” Jason answers, averting his eyes.  
“So, you have two other brothers. Are any of them hurt?” she asks.  
Jason shakes his head.  
“Good. Now, what happened to you?”  
“We're from America and we were kidnapped for ransom.”  
“Your father is a rich man then?”  
“Yeah. He's... Bruce Wayne.”  
She whispers that name again. “I thought that you two looked familiar. About twelve years ago, I knew a Bruce. He had the same black hair, and blue eyes. He stayed in the town for a while, learning about the people. He seemed, lost.” she pauses, her gaze thoughtful. “Okay, continue.”  
Jason swallows. “They called him and said they had proof of life, so they handed the phone to Dick. Dick said one word and Bruce asked him if we were okay. They tried to take the phone back and Dick told him not to do it, to not pay the ransom. None of us wanted him to.”  
“You didn't want to go home?”  
“No, we wanted to go home. We just didn't want him to do something stupid to get us back.”  
She chuckles at that. “So what happened?”  
“He listened to us. He didn't pay the ransom. Then they took us to that encampment about a mile and a half east of here.”  
“I know of it. Continue.” Her eyes turn stormy.  
“We were there for eight days. I don't think they liked us very much. My youngest brother, Damian, and I had two strikes before we left.”  
“And are you the oldest?”  
“No, he is.” Jason gestures in Dick's direction.   
Dick suddenly laughs. “You say that like it's a bad thing.”  
“You try having someone as bossy as you for an older brother, then you can have an opinion.” Jason answers.  
“You boss me around enough as it is, and you're my younger brother. So you have no room to talk.” He snickers quietly.  
The woman smiles and asks Jason to keep going.  
“So, we led a riot in the encampment and got out through the west side of the place. They sent dogs after us and that's how Dick got that wound. The people in the encampment gave the sound of victory like they promised, so we knew they were fine.”  
“And what of the dogs?”  
“Dead.”  
She nods, letting him continue.  
“So we came here and stayed in that alley for the night after I went and found some food. I woke up this morning and it was infected. So then I went and got some whiskey...”  
“You don't seem old enough for drinking.”  
“Close enough.” Jason attempts a smile.  
“And that's how you ended up here? You went looking for help.”  
“Yeah.” Jason watches her carefully. “If you can't let us stay, I understand, but just let me take care of him first.”  
“I can see that he means a lot to you, so I will let you help him, but I can't keep you here. If they search my house, I have no place to hide you. Even if they lost to the workers in the camp, the man who bought you might not like his investment to be poorly spent. He will try to find you.”  
Jason nods. “Thank you.”  
She goes to her tiny kitchen and grabs some supplies, then moving to Dick's left side. She has a small bowl and a tube-looking bunch of plants. She also has a small masher for salves and such. She puts the plants in the bowl and grinds them up. Then she presses the paste of the stuff on Dick's bite.  
“What is that?” Jason asks.  
“Burdock root. It will stop the infection. You whiskey inhibited its progress enough that I can stop it.” She does another layer of it and then goes to her bathroom and pulls out medical tape and pre-wrap. It's blue. Coincidence, maybe? The blue stuff goes on first and then the medical tape.   
Dick thanks her and rolls off the bed to his feet.   
She smiles. “You have an incredibly soft voice for someone so big. I suppose you get that from your father.”  
Jason can see that he likes the comment and he smiles too. “I wish we could stay and get to know you. You seem to have some experience in other areas, and I would love to hear stories of dad, but if we have to go, we'll go.”  
Jason nods and puts his hand out to shake. “Thank you, for everything. Is there anything I can do to repay you?”  
“You owe me nothing. It's nice to have a link to the past. But one thing I would like to know about you though...”  
“Yeah?”  
“Why the white streak?”  
“It won't take dye. And one thing I'd like to know about you.”  
She laughs at the dye part. “Yes?”  
“Your name.”  
“My name is Anna. And yours? I know Dick, and Damian, but what about your other brother and yourself?”  
“Oh, I'm Jason, and my other brother is Tim.”  
“Tim? Hmm. Short for Timothy?”  
“Yeah. Thanks again.” Dick joins him at the door.  
“It was no problem. After all this has died down, maybe you can visit?”  
“Maybe.” Jason opens the door and they close it behind them.  
“I think she's right.” Dick says.  
“About?”  
“Coming back to visit her. She seems a little lonely.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Yeah to the lonely part? Or yeah to the coming back to visit?”  
“Both.”  
Jason directs Dick back to their alley and Tim and Damian look up from scratching in the dirt. Damian stands up first and hugs Dick. Dick looks stunned. A hug, from Damian? Unheard of. Then he moves to Jason and does the same thing.  
“I'm conveying my worry through a form of physical presence.” Damian says.  
Dick just moves his good arm and ruffles Damian's hair and Jason smiles.  
…..... Two days later  
They'd been gone for a week and a half. People had come into the town knocking on doors and searching houses for them. They asked if they had seen four boys. Some said yes, some said no. Not everyone had seen them. Jason watches them from the shadows of the street he was on. Damian is with him and he's obviously not pleased. These guys had been here for the last day and a half asking around. Jason ushers him back into the alley as they start walking in their direction.   
Jason makes sure that they can't be seen and hides Damian behind him.  
“What are you doing? We could take them out!” Damian exclaims quietly.  
“Yeah, and then they'd know for sure that we're here. We have nowhere to hide, Damian. And I'm not getting caught again.”  
“Your strategy surprises me, and I see the benefits of being ghosts.”  
The men pass by and Jason and Damian are silent. They go unnoticed. Jason tells Damian to head back to the others and that he'll scout around for more men. The sky darkens and rain starts to pour down on him.  
He's about three blocks from the edge of the town when he hears it. He's going down yet another alley and he hears a whir on the street, coming fast. Jason would know that sound anywhere.  
Bruce's Bat-cycle. (Ha, Ha.)  
He knows how fast it travels, and how fast he travels and breaks into a run. It's sunset, and he can see the shine of the headlight. He leaps onto Bruce's back and takes the Batman off of his vehicle. It stops in a upright position about ten feet away, sensing the lack of weight. Jason is strong, but not as strong as he was and Bruce flips him onto his back and pulls his arm back to punch him.  
Jason's arms fly up in defense. “Bruce, no!” Jason is nearly sobbing with relief now at being found.  
The hit never comes. Jason puts his arms down and lets his head flop onto the wet earth, panting. He looks straight into Bruce's eyes and no recognition is there.  
“Bruce, it's me. It's Jason.” Jason pleas, knowing that falling in a mud puddle was not a great way to ensure that your dad recognizes you on sight.  
Bruce's eyes narrow and his gaze sweeps over him. A gloved hand comes up to his hair and brushes the wet mud from it, revealing his white streak on black hair. The mud all over his face would make it difficult to tell who it was, but the hair is a dead ringer.   
Bruce's other hand comes off the ground and pulls back his cowl, letting the rain patter across his head. “Jason.”  
Bruce pulls Jason's upper body into his grasp and Jason holds onto his back. “I thought I would have to look under every brick to find you guys, and here you are tackling me off of my motorcycle.” Bruce chuckles.  
Jason doesn't say anything. He just sits there, letting Bruce's fingers carding through his hair comfort him. He didn't have very high hopes for getting out of here, but Bruce came to find them. He can't even hold back the tears that had just surged into his eyes. They sit like that for another good 30 seconds or so before Bruce holds him out at arms length. He wipes the mud from under his eyes.  
“You had to land in the biggest puddle on the block?” Bruce asks, a little choked with a laugh.  
Jason laughs and gets to his feet. “It was a 'not looking before leaping' moment.” Bruce wraps his arm around Jason and Jason starts walking towards the alley where his brothers are camped out.  
“How long has it been since you escaped?” Bruce asks.  
“Three, four days.” Jason answers.   
Bruce stops and looks him over again. “You feel smaller, you okay?”  
“I kind of am. We've been better since we hit the streets, but before that we didn't really get to eat much.”  
Bruce's hand slides down his back and runs over the lash marks. There's no way that Bruce didn't feel them. They're scabbed over and protected, so it doesn't hurt, but he can definitely tell that Bruce can tell. Jason turns, knowing that Bruce would look either way, and Jason isn't strong enough to fight him over it. Bruce pulls his shirt up and frowns.  
“Where did these come from?” Bruce asks.  
“They're lash marks.”  
The rope burn on his wrists had thankfully healed before Bruce had found him. “Where did this happen?”  
“About a mile and a half east of here.”  
Bruce frowns even harder and Jason looks away. “They put you in the encampment?” he asks, every word clipped with barely suppressed anger.  
Jason can only nod.   
“It looked empty when I went past it.”  
“We, uh, started a riot and the workers won over the guards and guys.” Jason waits for his reaction.  
Bruce's eyes are full of amusement. “You started a riot?” he laughs, lets his shirt drop, and continues walking. “So, where did you stash your brothers?”  
Bruce pulls his cowl back up and Jason smiles. “Just can't let it be known?”  
“If you were wearing the cape and cowl, would you let people know your identity so they could spread it to everyone and anyone?”  
“No.” Jason answers. “And Dick and the rest are in another alley down the street from here.”  
Jason picks up the pace, eager to leave. “Hey dad?”  
“Yeah?”  
“We ran into an old friend of yours here. Her name is Anna.”  
Bruce's expression brightens. “How did you meet her?”  
“I was finding help for Dick. He got bitten by a dog and the wound got infected, so we went looking for help. She opened her door, saw me and Dick and I didn't even have to say anything. Dick wasn't in the greatest shape. He was pale and a little shaky. She let us in, she cured his bite and let us go.”  
“You didn't ask to stay?”  
“She knew she couldn't hide us if the man who...” Jason shudders a little.  
“Who what?” Bruce asks.  
Jason practically spits the first word. “Bought us, came looking.”  
Jason can feel Bruce's anger through his heavy armor at his words. Bruce stops him, yet again. He wraps his arms securely around Jason's shoulders. Jason doesn't know what else to do besides hold on as tight as he can manage.  
Bruce had informed Alfred after the first call and Alfred had simply said, “They will come back to us Master Bruce.” and turned to the kitchen to make their favorite cookies.  
He had been confused when something was able to push him from his motorcycle and catch him by surprise as well. He didn't even recognize him after he fallen in the puddle with Bruce and gotten all muddy. He kinda felt bad about that. And that he almost hit his son. Well, he hadn't known it was him at the time.  
Jason pulls Bruce out of his quiet thoughts. “We're here.”  
Jason turns into the alley and purposefully scuffs his shoe in the dirt. Dick is the first to react and gets up ready to tell him they were starting to worry. Then he sees the looming shadow that he brought with him. Dick narrows his eyes and then a smiles lights face, so bright Jason wonders if the sun went backwards just for this moment.  
Jason laughs so hard at the word that comes next. “Bruce!!!!!!” Dick runs at him and jumps on him. What are we? Seven? Jason can tell that Dick is crying, but he's being very collected.  
Bruce catches him, barely. Bruce can tell the weight and size difference just by catching him. Dick doesn't care if he can or not. He's just ecstatic that he can hug his dad.   
“And that's my cue.” Jason skirts to the side and gives Bruce a little space to put Dick back on the ground. Damian and Tim inbound. Bruce lets Dick stand to his left, Jason to his right as Damian reaches him first.  
Bruce crouches a little to let Damian hug him around his shoulders and then he moves to Tim. Bruce looks them over. They're all a little thin. He'll put in a word to Alfred when he gets to the jet. He had brought it in tracking mode from his motorcycle so he could load up his kids and get the heck out of dodge.   
Jason thinks that it's all well and good that Bruce found them, but he doesn't think that the Bat-cycle will carry them all. Comfortably, anyway. “Uh, Bruce?”  
“Yeah?”  
“How are we gonna fit on the Bat-cycle?”  
“We're not.” Bruce taps something on his wrist and suddenly they can hear the sound of the Bat-jet's engines.   
“Finally.” Dick says. Jason sees that weird look in his eyes and gets the feeling he should run. Dick jumps on Jason's back and rub his fist into his hair. Jason lets his weight shift so Dick's lands beneath him.   
“Get off me, octopus.”   
“Octopus? That's one I haven't heard yet.” Dick props himself on his elbows, his brows low and considering.   
“Yeah, it means your tentacly arms wrap around everyone and squeeze them to death.” Jason answers, scrambling out of Dick's arms.  
Dick pulls his now wet clothes away from his side and turns his nose up in disgust. “Jay. You didn't have to throw me in the mud.”  
“Why not? I did the same thing to Bruce earlier.”  
Dick raises a muddy, questioning brow.   
Bruce signals for the jet to land and he opens the back hatch when it does, pressing a button on his belt for his bike to track them and come back. “Come on. You wouldn't want to miss your flight!”  
Jason is the first in the jet. He's about to flop onto a cot when Bruce stops him. “None of us are leaving until you have clean clothes on. Tim, Damian, you're fine. But Dick and Jason, mud puddle wonders, have to change.” Lucky Bruce and his liquid shedding costume.  
Damian and Tim snicker and make a show of lying down on their designated cots. Dick sticks out his tongue at them and they smile. Dick and Jason change quickly, anxious to be leaving. Bruce had brought his fastest jet. Yay! 6 hours at top speed to get to Gotham.   
All four boys slept through all of it while Bruce watched over them. Bruce had never reported them missing to the GPD, and with the new building for them still going up, no one even noticed Dick's absence. The Red Hood disappeared from time to time, so all was well. Having no Robin was harder to explain, but he didn't have to. Because he's Batman.   
When he woke them up and told them that supper was ready and waiting for them, they rolled on out of the jet and up the stairs to the dining room. Bruce followed them and then suddenly looked back to Jason's memorial case. He didn't know why he ever left it standing and wondered what Jason thought of it. What if he looked at it and saw Bruce longing for the son that he had lost, not the one who came back? Or it creeped him out to see a memorial for him while he was living and breathing.  
Bruce would disassemble it later.  
He followed his boys up the stairs, silently sighing in relief. When supper started, it was obvious that they hadn't lost their appetites, and it didn't take them a week to gain their strength back. In their muscles, yes, but in spirit and size, no. And the muscle was back to normal within three weeks. Dick's dog bite scarred, but it had disappeared. The new month was nearly over when they got over their quietness though. Even Dick had been quiet, and that kind of spooked Bruce. Not much could do that to him. He was afraid they might need therapy, but they got over it.   
On the last day of the month, May 31st, Dick went down to his small (large) arena in the cave. He'd been trying to get back into the natural swing of the trapezes, but it just didn't seem to be coming. Today though, he felt different. Braver, bolder, and stronger. He felt as if he could finally move on.  
He powdered his hands and gripped the first bar. He looked down where no net was waiting to catch him and grinned. His heart and soul vibrate with intensity as he swings on the first bar bar, flipping when he releases and grabs the next bar. He pulls his upper body over the bar and leverages his hips to come up and his legs over that, coming up into a hand-stand on top of the swing. He closes his eyes for just a moment, feeling the cold wind coming through the cave exit. To him, it gives him wings. To feel it circle around him, and try to push him. But he holds steady. The swing reaches it's peak while his eyes are still closed and he lets his legs fall forwards at that moment, catching the next bar.  
He opens his eyes and looks down, seeing a bar below him, still swinging from his earlier release. He looks forwards and grabs on to the bar matching his eye level, letting his legs swing behind him. The swing reaches its peak and he wraps his legs around a higher bar. The one he saw below him swings back in his direction. He drops. He puts his arms out to catch the bar just as it hits the top if its arc and he swings back onto the first bar. He's backwards, so when the bar reaches the top, he lets go of the bar, turns mid-air and grabs it again.   
He suddenly feels eyes on his back, but doesn't turn to look. Instead, he swings high and lets go, reaching for the high bar. He can't look back, He has to move on or he'll fall, so he swings and drops to a slightly lower bar. He hears gloves behind him, gripping the bar. He uses his legs to catch the next bar and look behind him. It's Bruce. Dick laughs as he swings to catch up, not to enjoy to movement. He arches his back and puts his arms out to catch the next bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely feel that starting a riot would be something that they would do. Also, I'm sorry for the horrid description of the trapeze stuff.


	11. Esplosions :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boom boom and sadness. Normal day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! I'm sorry it's late, but it's still Monday, so that counts.

          Jason knows that he should patch into his comm and apologize for everything. Knows that he should try to get help. He also knows that if he shifts his weight too much, he'll die. If he tilts the platform one way or the other, it'll all be over. He can't move without the fear setting everything off.

          He's standing on a bomb. He's on a raised platform, five feet tall, four square feet long and wide, maybe. There are pressure plates on all four sides and a weight sensor on the trigger. Which is maddening because it's also on a timer. Jason grimaces.

          Then confusion takes over him as the sound of an explosion in Gotham reaches him. What if that was Dick? Or Bruce? Jason shuts his eyes, not wanting to take out his comm and patch in to find out that someone is dead. Jason could end it again, right here. Death by fiery explosion. Meh. Done it.

          The timer is set for twelve hours. It was sixteen. It was twenty. Eight hours. That's how long Jason had been standing there. Eight hours, wondering if Bruce could find him. Eight hours since they had smashed his link to every Bat and walked him straight into a trap. Deathstroke had been in on it too, but he'd be willing to bet that he was being paid.

          It had been a long time since Sportsmaster was ever a threat, but he had bidden his time. Jason had pushed him out of Gotham when he started taking over other regions of crime, including thefts. Dick had been Nightwing at sixteen years old when he foiled one of his plans and he had sworn revenge. Dick was slightly paranoid in the months following, until a year passed and it just didn't seem to be coming. At least, that's what Bruce had said.

          Now he knew that biding time really meant waiting until all the heat died down and then striking at the people who scorned you. He didn't know if Sportsmaster went after Dick or not, but with that explosion in Gotham, it makes him wonder. Or maybe Batman. Bruce screwed up his plans on a regular basis.

          Jason waits. His muscles start to cramp, but he can't move. His body is straining to keep still and Jason is barely keeping it in check. If he moves it will relieve the stiffness, but that'll be the least of his worries. He's sweating. If he sheds his leather jacket, that's almost ten pounds of weight, and it will register and blow. That and he loses most of his weaponry if someone comes back.

…....... Explosion site in Gotham, two minutes before the blast

          Bruce backed into the warehouse, facing off against Sportsmaster. He pulls a gun and Batman flips backwards towards the center of the room, where a raised platform, which would give Bruce the high ground, is standing. Bruce leaps backwards again as more bullets rain around him. He flips upwards to stand on the platform when he sees metal plates along the edges. He fires his grapple before landing and pulls himself away from it, landing on the upper catwalks.

          Bruce throws a large batterang, filled with explosives and jumps to the skylights. The explosion comes sooner than he expects and it blows him from the roof, half deafening him. He lands in the next block's alley and hits the fire escape. Then he bounces off and hits the alley wall and falling to the closed dumpster below. Metal lids are a grand thing when it comes to not falling into garbage. He rolls off onto the ground and lies there for a little while, dazed. About ten minutes pass by as he holds onto the strings of consciousness. His awareness seems to come back to him after twelve and he stops seeing double after fifteen. His ears stop ringing after twenty.

          He can hear the wail of sirens and moves slowly to his feet. Aside from the bruising to his back and shoulders, and a few shards of glass here or there, he finds himself mostly unharmed. He has a few pieces of his costume torn, but nothing huge. His cape is fine, if not in the best shape out of everything including him.

          Bruce would be willing to bet that Sportsmaster got away, but there isn't much he can do about it now. Bruce pulls out the small shards of glass and moves slowly out of the alley. Bruce gets a hail to his comm.

….......Bludhaven, 20 minutes after Gotham explosion.

          Dick is fighting Sportsmaster and Deathstroke. Why would they team up? The fight is ranging across almost all of his territory in Bludhaven and into down-town Gotham. They lead him into the Garden of Angels. A very creepy place, if you ask Dick.

          There was one angel in the center who always stood behind a pedestal with her hands spread as if gesturing him forwards. Sometimes it was empty, other times there would be a vase of flowers or a stone tree. Today it's empty. Dick leaps to the top of a statue to get a good look. The building is huge, and all of the statues are tall and large enough to hide behind. A shot cracks the statue that he's on and startles him. He loses his grip and hits the ground, but quickly rolls to his feet. Sadly, the most protected place in the room is on that pedestal, where the angels wings almost spread all the way around it.

          But he has to go across many feet of open space to reach it. The base of the statue explodes and he has almost no time to shield his face from the rocks. A couple hit his arms as the marble figure bears down on him. Another smaller explosion knocks one of her arms loose while he's rolling and hits his leg. Sadly, with a huge statue, the arms are big enough to hurt him and pin him. Dick cries out and tries to push it off with his arms. It barely moves, but he kicks at it with his free leg and it slides down his leg, the crook of her elbow giving him enough space to wriggle free.

          His leg isn't as bad as he thought and he looks around, seeing Deathstroke approaching quickly. He runs for the statue and hops into her protective reach, throwing a couple of Wing-Dings at him. When his feet hit the platform, he hears a chirp. He's about to move to look for the location when Deathstroke's voice comes from the slight opening at the front.

          “I wouldn't move if I were you. You see, the timer for this bomb has been running since the first one was activated.”

          “Was that the explosion in Gotham?” Dick growls, silently hoping that neither Bruce or Jason got caught up in it. Tim and Damian were thankfully at home, sick with the flu. Winter came early, which in Gotham is normal.

          Deathstroke shakes his head.

          Dick focuses and he can hear the timer counting down. “How long?”

          “Usually I wouldn't tell you, but...” he perches on one of her wings and leans in. Dick suppresses a shiver as his hand brushes his hair, but Deathstroke can still tell it.

          “Don't be scared.” Deathstroke croons.

          “Of you?” Dick asks, nearly shaking with newfound anger.

          Deathstroke's hand moves to the other side of his head and he does the same thing and Dick shivers again, but suddenly, his fingers grab his well-hidden comm and pull it away. He looks at it and crushes it between two fingers. He was looking for the comm. Dick growls. Of course he would also leave him with no help, and his one for Jason is hidden in his boot. Dick stares straight ahead, not even caring anymore. Deathstroke's hand grabs his hair in the front and pulling it back, forcing Dick to look at him.

          “See you around kid. Well, maybe not.”

          “How long?” Dick asks.

          “Eleven and a half hours.” Deathstroke answers him.

          Deathstroke lets go of Dick's hair and climbs back down the statue, treading smoothly away. Leaving Dick alone. Sportsmaster had long since disappeared. If he had a chance of being found, he wouldn't cry, but unless someone stops in to stare at statues, there's almost no chance unless Bruce comes looking. Tears start to drip silently onto the platform, but Dick keeps himself from shaking.

          Eleven and a half hours. Dick closes his eyes and uses a trick that Damian had taught him. Sleep standing up. There isn't much else he can do.

…........ Bruce's comm conversation

          “Batman.”

          “Yeah, Oracle?”

          “I just lost contact with two of our guys. They didn't have their trackers activated, so we don't know where they are.”

          “Which ones, Oracle?” Bruce asks, knowing full well of the only other guys that they have.

          “Red Hood and Nightwing have dropped off the grid.”

          Bruce sighs. Of course they did. “No last known location?”

          “None.”

          “Okay, see if you can track them using cameras. I'll look for them myself.”

          “Good luck, Bruce.”

          “Oh, and Oracle?”

          “Yeah?”

          “Tell your girls to be on the look-out for Sportsmaster. He blew up a building about a half-hour ago. Well, technically I did, but it was his bomb.”

          “All right, Bruce. I'll tell them to be careful.”

          Bruce heads to Jason's territory first, but doesn't find him. There's been no Red Hood sightings all night. Jason, take the night off? Never.

          He heads to Dick's territory next and hears word of some activity all across his place. Exactly the opposite of Jason. And then he sees Deathstroke leaving the central area of downtown Gotham. There's not many places to go there, but a couple of attractions. The first one he thinks of is the BPD. That could only mean trouble. The second one he thinks of is the Garden of Angels. Though Deathstroke doesn't quite seem one for art, there are certain things at attractions that are worth something. Like marble.

          He checks the BPD first and finds no issues. But when he reaches the Garden, he looks on at the destruction. Marble could block any small heat readers he has on him, and with the stench of explosives still in the air, they wouldn't be accurate anyway. He can't see anything real well in the darkness, even with his night vision in his cowl. Shadows are shadows, and there isn't much you can do about them. The place is pitch black anyway.

          One of the largest statues in the place is toppled, with an arm broken off. Bruce only hangs around another five minutes, just to see if he can find where Dick went. He yields no clues. He heads back to the Bat cave. He'll have another look in the morning when he can see. Something seems off about this place. The statues all seem to be staring at him. He's been searching for four hours.

…..... 2 hours later, an hour before dawn.

          Dick wakes up from his sleep, and estimates from the lightening sky that it's been about six hours, max, since he went to sleep. Leaving him with five or so. His muscles are all stiff, and complaining, but he doesn't dare move. He breathes deeply and centers one of his feet on the platform and reaches his boot with the comm link up to where he can reach it. He puts his foot back down and centers his weight again, sighing in relief. He sticks the comm in his ear slowly.

          “Red Hood? Do you read me? Red Hood, are you there? Red Hood, please respond.” No answer. He tries again. Still no answer.

          Another hour passes and he's down to four.

          Dick tries again to get through to Jason, hoping that he'll be able to hear him. Jason hasn't traveled without Dick's comm since he gave it to him last Easter. Something must be wrong. “Red Hood? Answer the flipping hail! I'm in trouble, and I'm standing on a bomb!”

          Still no answer. That worries Dick. What if Jason was caught in that explosion in Gotham? No. Jason would have kept to his own territory. Dick wants to throw up at the memory of being completely at Deathstroke's mercy. He couldn't have moved to stop him without killing himself. His halved mask taunting him, threatening him. Dick grimaces. He manipulated Tim when he was with the Titans, and got him to act against his friends under the threat of death, and Dick had been just as powerless to stop him from playing with him, like a cat with a mouse.

          Another hour passes, leaving him with about three.

          He stands completely still, his muscles locking up. He was about ready to just jump off and see how far he could run before it blew, but he knew that was pointless. He couldn't fire his grapple without the kick from the propulsion tech Bruce added throwing his weight off. It was handy when he needed more power to reach his target, but not when steadiness was key.

          He's sweating now, wondering where Jason and Bruce are, and wondering if they're safe.

          He hears something in the Garden and for a moment thinks that Deathstroke has come back to taunt him. He only has one view of the rest of the place and it's forwards. The person walking through the place is around his back. He walks in front of him, but Dick can't see his face.

          At first he thinks he's hallucinating. Batman? In the day-time? But no. It's the real deal. Dick could almost cry again if he wasn't so tired.

          “Dad.” he croaks, his weariness catching up to him. Batman didn't hear him and was treading towards the fallen statue. “Dad.” Dick calls again, louder. His throat is dry suddenly and his voice cuts out. “Dad!” he shouts, with what he can manage. The sound echoes around the place for a moment before Bruce turns.

          Bruce's expression turns to shock when he sees Dick in between the wings, on top of the pedestal. He rushes up to it but Dick barely shakes his head for him not to touch it. Bruce keeps his hands back and examines the stone circle. Then he hears the soft ticking of the bomb.

          “How long have you been standing here?” Bruce asks.

          “About eight hours.” Dick answers.

          “Eight hours? Can you move?”

          Dick shakes his head minutely. His muscles had all locked up, and now he couldn't move if he wanted to just out of general stiffness.

          “Have you been in contact with Jason?”

          “I tried, but he wouldn't answer.”

          Bruce finds the broken comm on the ground. “Who did this?”

          “D-Deathstroke.” Dick responds quietly.

          “Why did he break your comm?” Bruce asks, anger spiking in him at the thought of Deathstroke being that close to his son.

          “He didn't want me to be able to call for help.” Dick answers, clearing his throat.

          “Did he hurt you at all?” Bruce asks.

          “He landed the angel's arm on my leg, but it's fine.”

          “We need to get you off of there.”

          Bruce fires his grapple at the ceiling at an angle, going away from the back of the angel and it stays taught. Bruce climbs to the head of the angel and lets the grapple pick up the slack, then sets it for a slow reel. He lowers into the angel's little circle and steadies himself.

          “On three, I'm going to grab you, okay?”

          “Okay.” Dick breathes a little shakily.

          “You should at least loosen your arms before, in case you need to hold on to something.”

          Dick nods and slowly moves his arms, Bruce helping him get them to move. His arms and hands tingle at every slight shift and Dick wants to cry at his lack of finger control. He goes through all the motions he knows and grimaces every once in a while as the muscles start to relax. “Okay.” he breathes again.

          “One.”

          “Two.” Dick takes another shaky breath.

          “Three!” Bruce grabs him around the middle and the grapple burst into action, jettisoning them towards the roof at an alarming speed. The explosion throws them through the glass roof. Bruce's grapple comes back to the gun and he has no time to fire it again before the impact. Instead, he puts it away and wraps his body around Dick as much as he can. It throws them to the building next door and the velocity puts them over the edge and into the alley. Bruce braces his already battered shoulders for the hit. They land inside the fire escape, not on the edge to be tossed to the ground below. Bruce's grip on Dick slips on the landing and he bounces onto the metal grate.

          Dick gasps for air as the wind is knocked out of him. He coughs, shaking. Bruce gets to his knees and waits for Dick to move. Dick feebly pulls air into his lungs and seems to sink out of consciousness for a few moments. Bruce isn't any worse for wear than he was after the first explosion. Dick is lying on his stomach with his eyes shut.

          “Bruce.” he gasps out.

          “Right here.” Bruce puts a hand on his shoulder.

          Dick nods quickly, groaning. Bruce turns him over and gets him propped up against the rail of the fire escape. Dick tilts his head back and then lets it drop against his chest.

          “You okay?” Bruce asks.

          Dick's breaths slow and he finally nods. “I'm good.”

          Bruce helps him to his feet and Dick tries to get through to Jason again.

…...... Bludhaven warehouse.

          Jason had heard Dick calling to him just a few of hours ago. And then he went silent. And another hour passed and Dick started calling out to him again, telling him that he was standing on a bomb. Jason heart squeezed in his chest when he heard the explosion and prayed that Dick got out alive. Then Dick starts talking in the comm again. Jason sighs in relief, but his trembling muscles all protest his insistence on being upright. If he shook any harder, he'd lose his balance and it would be over. His left leg suddenly cramps with a vengeance and Jason fights the urge to scream.

          “Jason, where are you?” He hears Dick ask. “Jason, Red Hood, please respond! Come on, Jay.”

          He hears Bruce on the other end and has to stop himself from jumping for joy.

          “Dick, is there a way to track his comm?”

          “No. They're untraceable. I'm sorry. Jay, if you can hear me you need to respond! We need to know where you are.”

          Jason can't get to his comm without shifting his weight, but if he can keep the platform steady enough, he can get it.

          “Jason, answer! Please!” Dick sounds scared out of his mind.

          Jason bites his lip as a involuntary tremor runs through his whole body. Jason bends his knees and groans as he can hear his joints popping from the sudden strain. He lifts his heels and stands for a moment on his toes. His stiff fingers fumble on the bottom of his boot before sliding the small door on the bottom of his boot open and the comm falls out. He has to let Dick know he's not dead. He skims the surface of the platform for his comm and his fingers barely touch it before he scoops it up with his numb fingers, barely able to close them far enough to grab it.

          His arm protests nearly verbally to being raised up, suddenly cramping. He puts the comm in his ear and speaks for the first time in almost nineteen hours.

          “Jason, answer your dang comm!”

          “Dick.” Jason answers. He barely hears himself.

          “Dick.” Bruce's voice says. “No, dad. Did you hear that?” He can imagine Bruce shaking his head. “No.” Dick pleads with him. “It was just there!”

          Jason swallows, his dry throat making it hard. “Dick.” he croaks again, barely louder. His voice is scratchy and hoarse. “Please. Don't give up on me.” he barely whispers. “Please.”

          “Never.” Dick's strong response startles him. He realizes that Bruce must have spoken, because Jason could barely hear his own voice.. “I'm not going to give up trying, Bruce.”

          Tears jump into his eyes as another tremor passes through him, barely controllable. He has to try. “Dick. Don't give up on me.” Jason's desperation surprises him. He hadn't realize how much he needed someone to believe that he wasn't dead.

          “Dad. I think I can hear him. He's awful quiet though.” Jason hears Bruce murmur for him to continue, uncertainly. “Jay, please, tell me that's you. You have to respond to me Jay.”

          It's all he can say anymore. “Please, please don't give up on me. I'm right here.” An hour left. That's all he has. Almost an hour. Jason swallows again, praying for his voice to work. “Dick, don't give up on me. Don't, please.” His voice is a harsh gasp of words.

          “Never, Jay.” Dick's voice and Bruce thanking God that his son was okay answer him.

          Jason's hoarse sigh is their only answer. Jason wondered if Dick could see his timer from where he was. Jason can see his. Almost fifty minutes.

          “Jason, do you know where you are?”

          “Yeah.”

          “Where?”

          “Standing on a bomb.” He whispers.

          Silence meets him.

          “A bomb. You know. On a timer, goes 'Boom'.” Jason tries to joke, but his voice breaks.

          “How long?” Dick asks.

          Jason wonders again if he could see his timer and wonders how many times he asked himself, 'How long until it's over?', 'How long until I can't stand?'. Jason asked himself that a lot. “Not long.”

          “Jay, tell me how long.”

          Jason hesitates and he can practically feel Dick searching for his answer over dead air. Jason hesitates for a long while.

          “Why won't you tell me Jay? We can help you.” Dick pleas. “Just tell us where and how long and we'll come and get you. We will come and get you, Jay.”

          “Forty-one minutes. Old warehouse district of Bludhaven. Now you get to tell me where you are.” He knows for a fact that that explosion was all the way across Bludhaven and into the downtown of Gotham. He can feel it. Even on his fastest day, it takes forty-five to cross that amount of land. On a motorcycle.

          “We're in downtown.” Dicks sounds past desperate. “I'm coming Jay.”

          “No, Dick.”

          “You asked me, so many times not to give up on you. You pleaded with me, and now you want me to give up? No. I refuse. I'm coming to get you Jay, with or without Bruce. I promise you.”

          The line closes and Jason waits. He doesn't know if Dick can make it in time. But Dick gave him his word. He watches the timer. The minutes drone by slowly. 40..... 37...... 32...... 29...... 23...... 19...... 12...... 9...... 5......3

          The sound of a vehicle reaches him and he looks up, not able to see out of the warehouse, but knowing that they're close. So close.

          “Jay, what building number!” The line opens again.

          “Eight.”

          2 minutes 30 seconds.

          1 minute.

          The warehouse door bursts open and Bruce and Dick run in. He sees a glint in Bruce's eyes that he doesn't understand.

          Bruce only knows two things in that moment. How much he loves his son, and how much he weighs.

          40 seconds.

          Bruce jumps up to the platform and Jason's feet leave it just as Bruce's feet land on it. Jason hits the ground. “Dick! Take him and go!”

          “But dad!” Dick shouts, running to Jason anyway. “You'll die!”

          “Just go!” Bruce tells him to run. “Go, Run, Now!”

          Jason sees that there will be no argument. Dick grabs Jason's arm and bolts for the door. Adrenaline pumps through Jason, causing his whole body to flare like a live wire. He runs. Jason only looks back once. And there his father stands, tall and proud. His cape and cowl billowing around him like molten tar. Making him look fierce. But an intense light shines in his eyes, making him seem like a dark protector.

          10 seconds.

          Jason runs side by side with Dick.

          9 seconds.

          Dick deems their distance safe.

          8 seconds.

          They turn and look.

          7 seconds.

          A shadow is all they see in their father's place. As if death has already shrouded him.

          6 seconds.

          They close their eyes.

          5 seconds.

          Bruce had to make sure that they were a safe distance away.

          4 seconds.

          He fires his grapple.

          3 seconds.

          It pulls him to the air vent, the weight sensor slowly responding.

          2 seconds.

          Bruce crawls through the vent, clawing his way to the roof.

          1.

          Dick and Jason flinch hard at the explosion, though they were expecting it. The heat wave passes over them and Jason's leather jacket flaps in the gust. Tears pour freely down their cheeks. Jason takes off his helmet and lets it fall to the ground. They can feel the heat of the flames as if it's touching them.

          “If he's dead, they're dead. Deathstroke and Sportsmaster. Both of them. I don't care what anyone says or does.”

          Dick won't even argue with him on the morals of killing. That's Bruce's job.

          “What did you bring to get me?” Jason asks quietly.

          “The Batmobile.”

          Jason and Dick turn to walk to it.

          “And just where..... do you two think you're going?”

          Jason and Dick turn back and see Bruce standing there. His costume is ripped in multiple places. Red spots of angry skin in some areas. Bruce lets his cape fall around him, hiding his multiple injuries and causing the two brothers to look up at his face. His cowl is down and he's smiling at them. He picks up Jason's helmet and holds it out.

          He approaches them confidently and they stand shoulder to shoulder. No pain shows on his face even with the evidence that was before them that he's injured in multiple places. Bruce wraps an arm around each of them and they each put one arm around his back, locking arms behind him with the helmet in Bruce's hand around Jason's back. His own back is slick with blood and Dick lets him go to look at it. There's a deep wound on his shoulder, from where he must have had a piece of flaming metal. The skin around it is burned slightly.

          Jason looks him straight in the eyes. “Don't you ever, ever do that again!”

          “Jason, you're my son. If I have to decide between me or you, it will always be you. Don't ever doubt that.” Bruce hands him his helmet.

          Jason hugs him again and Dick smiles brightly.

          Bruce pulls away. “Now, let's go home.” He pulls his cowl up. “The night is long since over.”

 


	12. Time for a Little Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's an interesting night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to have a little fun, and I decided that the best way to do this might be with alcohol. : )

          It never happens very often. In fact in rarely happens at all. But when Bruce walks into the den and sees both of his older boys laughing like hooligans, he knows. Their eyes are bright and their pupils are the size of saucers. They're trying to top each other in stunts.

          Dick does a one-handed hand stand off the back off the couch. Jason achieves it but his added weight sends the couch toppling over backwards. Both Jason and Dick are tossed to the floor and when they look up, they laugh. Bruce watches on for a little while. Though for Dick, it was expected, they're both happy drunks.

          When they finally see Bruce, they've knocked over his arm chair and done backflips off the wall. It's only when they topple another piece of furniture do they finally look towards the door.

          “Oh ship.” Dick says.

          “Did you just say 'Oh, chip?'” Jason giggles.

          Dick is sprawled out on the floor on his stomach, and Jason is too, their legs are all tangled up in the throw for the couch.

          “Just what exactly is it that you think you're doing?” Bruce's voice is scolding, but his eyes hold a glimmer of mischief.

          Jason looks confused, and Dick just laughs, flipping onto his back and looking at Bruce upside-down. Jason laughs at Dick's face and Dick untangles his legs to tackle him. Jason scurries out from under him and runs across the room and out the door. Dick is off like a shot after him, laughing the whole time. It's almost midnight. Tim is in his room doing homework and Damian is down in the cave, so they shouldn't be bothered.

          Bruce follows them slowly through the manor, only sometimes seeing the aftermath. Bruce cringes as something shatters and both boys start cackling like mad men.

          “Master Bruce. As much as this may amuse you, be kind, for I am the one who must clean this mess.” Alfred's calm demeanor is also a subtle hint for him to get them to stop messing around or else.... Bruce doesn't like that tone, so he's never ventured to see what Alfred might do.

          “Dick, Jason.”

          They freeze as Bruce calls their names and he walks over to them. “Why aren't you on patrol Dick?”

          “Well, see I was, but then, uh.... What were we doing Jay?”

          Jason laughs. “We were introducing criminals to public humiliation.”

          Bruce smirks slightly but then asks what happened.

          Dick answers. “It was so slow Bruce! We were bored! So we went out and got just a couple drinks.”

          “Just a couple?” Bruce asks, a full smile blooming onto his face. “Is that why you two are tearing up the house and laughing like loons?”

          Jason busts out laughing and Dick glares at him, making Jason laugh harder. Dick then starts laughing too and Bruce turns and shrugs to Alfred. _What am I supposed to do?_ He silently asks him.

          Bruce turns back to his two boys and smiles. “You two are gonna be hammered in the morning, you know that, right? It's almost midnight and you'll want all the sleep you can get before the massive hangover in the morning.”

          Bruce wraps an arm around both of them and escorts them to their rooms. Damian comes up from the cave and sees him and rushes up to see what's happening. When he hears Jason giggling like a school girl, his face turns almost quizzical. Dick laughs too as Bruce opens the door to Jason's room and strides in with them and dumps Jason on his bed. Bruce does the same thing to Dick when they reach his room.

          When Bruce turns to leave, he finds Alfred waiting at the door with two buckets in hand. “For the morning, sir.”

          Bruce laughs and takes the buckets. “I'll make sure they can reach them when they wake up.”

          Alfred just turns and heads down to the main level of the manor. Even Bruce sometimes wonders if the man sleeps, eats, all of the above. It's kind of creepy that he catches them at inopportune times. Bruce turns and sets a bucket on the right side of the bed next to the frame. He walks into Jason's room and finds him already conked out. He smiles as he puts the bucket next to the bed.

 

          Morning comes and the sound of his boys' upset stomachs fills the hallways. Bruce walks by their rooms later to check on them and finds Jason reading a book on his bed, lying stomach down. He doesn't seem at all bothered, but he has his bucket next to him on the edge of the bed. Bruce walks in.

          “What are you reading?”

          “Divergent.”

          “What's it about?”

          “It's when this girl from Abnegation gets a mixed result in her aptitude tests to figure out which faction she should belong to, and she turns out to be Divergent. She picks Dauntless.”

          “Dauntless huh?” Bruce pauses, his expression thoughtful. “What are the other factions?”

          “Abnegation, Erudite, Candor, and Amity.”

          Bruce nods and Jason snickers at something in the book, and Bruce ruffles his hair and heads to Dick's room. Dick is lying on his back with ear buds in with a smile on his face. His eyes are shut and he seems to be sleeping. His bucket is also on the bed next to him. Close enough he can reach it, but not so close he'll knock it over if he does have to throw up.

          His face suddenly becomes uncomfortable and his eyes snap open and he reaches for his bucket, knowing full well where it is. Bruce cringes and turns as he coughs up his stomach contents. Similar sounds from Jason's room come at almost the same time. Dick wipes his mouth with a tissue and lies back on his bed and stares at the ceiling.

          “I'd ask how you were doing, but I can see now that it isn't great.” Bruce speaks.

          “I've been in worse situations. I've felt worse than this. This is nothing, I'm fine.”

          Bruce is almost surprised Dick can hear him over his music, but Dick never listened to his at full blast like Jason does. Jason uses his speakers in his room though and cranks it up so everyone in the Bat cave can hear it. Bruce nods and leaves, heading back to his study, where he finds Damian looking over the monthly reports of Wayne Enterprises.

          “Anyone doing something I should be aware of?”

          “Not this time.” Damian answers.

          Bruce chuckles and closes the door. “Why are you in here Damian?”

          “The sound of my brothers throwing up last night's mistake was growing old. As much fun as it is to mess with them when they're having issues, I prefer to stay mess-free.”

          Bruce laughs and Damian giggles slightly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm finally doing something fun and silly!


	13. A Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of blood and suffering surrounding this family already, but that isn't enough when Deathstroke comes back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am warning you all of the gore now, so if you want to skip this chapter, I advise you to do so. There is really nothing wrong with doing exactly that, because the psychological and mental torture is intense.

          Frustration gnaws at Bruce. He can't get through to Dick, and neither can Jason. Tim has been trying to find his frequency all night, but he just can't. No one knows where he is. It's like he just vanished off the face of the earth. Bruce had gotten Jason home and then it was madness from there.

          Oracle is also on the case, but she can't find him either. They searched Gotham and Bludhaven for him, but just couldn't find him anywhere.

….... Dick's POV. Eight hours earlier.

          He didn't realize who his opponent was at first because the shadows were wrapped around him, but now he knows.

          'See you around, kid. Well, maybe not.'

          Deathstroke. Dick frowns and Deathstroke laughs. “So you did make it out of that explosion. I was kind of hoping that you would.”

          “Why?” Dick asks.

          “So that I could torment you, the way I tormented the little bird and his friends.”

          Deathstroke approaches him quickly and Dick takes a swing at him. Deathstroke catches his arm and wrenches it around his back. Dick groans as his muscles strain under new pressure. Dick turns so that his arm is at least straight and kicks Deathstroke in the stomach. He lets go of Dick's arm and dodges another blow to his ribs. They fight until they reach the sidewalk and Dick tries to sweep his legs out from under him.

          Instead of jumping, Deathstroke brings his foot down on Dick's left leg. Dick winces, but only slight damage is done. He staggers back to his feet and Deathstroke grabs his head, slamming Dick's jaw onto his knee. He doesn't let go and Deathstroke slams his head into the wall. Dick falls to the ground and tries to scramble back, but Deathstroke steps on his already-injured leg and stops him. When he leans down to grab his other leg to hold him still, Dick kicks him in the face. His mask makes it a glancing blow, but he still stumbles back.

          Dick gets to his feet and slips into the alley. He jumps to the top of a dumpster and then to the fire escape. Then he uses the wall to jump to the second level, then the third. He has to rest at the third because his leg is worse than he realized. His heart pounds in his ears as he gets to the fourth and fifth levels. He can hear Deathstroke approaching fast. Dick reaches the roof and rolls over the edge. The north side of the building. He moves to the west side and lets himself dangle over the edge.

          There's a fire escape below him, but not completely. If he falls, he's going to hit the ground. He hears Deathstroke reach the roof. The gravel top crunches under his boots. Dick quiets his breathing and stays as still as possible. Dick puts his feet in front of his stomach and pushes off the wall, back-flipping and bouncing from wall to wall. On the last jump, his leg almost gives out, but he pushes on.

          He hears running footsteps behind him and knows that Deathstroke figured it out. Dick takes a sharp turn and skids into another alley, heading south. He turns west and breaks into a sprint, dodging cars as he sprints through the open street. He turns north one he gets into the alley on the other side and runs as fast as he can for his border. Between his territory, and the Red Hood's. He can't hear anyone behind him anymore through the blood pounding in his ears. He heads for one of Jason's safe-houses and turns northeast into a diagonal alley that runs to the heart of Bludhaven. He bursts onto the street and rushes down the sidewalk. He sees a light on in Jason's safe-house and bolts through the door, closing and locking it behind him. He slides to the floor in front of it and buries his head in his chest, pulling his good knee close to him.

          He sits there breathing heavily for a little bit before looking up at the sound of a hammer being pulled back. Realization dawns on Jason's face and he holsters his gun before kneeling next to him at the door.

          “What are you doing here?”

          Dick talks in between breaths. “Running... from,” he coughs. “Deathstroke.”

          “Deathstroke? What's he want with you now?” Jason asks, confused.

          “Don't know.”

          Jason looks him over thoroughly and reaches for Dick's leg that's not close to him. “What's with this?” he touches it on the spot that Deathstroke stepped on it and Dick winces. “What did he do to your leg? Can you move it?” Jason's eyes turn angry behind his mask.

          “If I couldn't move it, I wouldn't have gotten here.”

          “I mean, can you move it now?”

          Dick lifts it off the floor and doesn't have an issue.

          “Can you bend it for me?”

          “What are you, my physical therapist?” Dick sounds exasperated, but he does what Jason asks anyway.

          He doesn't even get to a 90 degree angle before having to stop.

          “How did you even get here on this?” Jason takes his boot off and pulls up the spandex leg. The area around the knee is bruising heavily and his shin is a patchwork. “What did you do to get away?”

          “Do you need the whole story?” Dick asks, wincing as Jason taps at the bruising experimentally.

          “That would be great, yeah.” Jason looks up at his pain-clouded expression and waits for an answer.

          “I found him about five blocks from the edge of our territories and we fought. When I went to sweep his legs out from under him, he stepped on me instead of jumping. And when I got up, he slammed my head into the building we were next to.” Dick's hands curl into fists as Jason pulls Dick's leg back into the straight position.

          Jason shakes his head. “I still want to know how you got here. Your knee looks like it's been stepped on by a horse.”

          “How would you know what that looks like?”

          “I don't. It just seems like it.”

          “I ran here.” Dick answers.

          Jason almost looks surprised, but rage is more along the lines of his expression. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” Jason asks, holding his composure.

          “I think he strained my elbow and might have given me a concussion, maybe a bruised jaw.”

          Jason tells him to wait at the door and goes to his kitchen. Dick hears him scoop ice out of the freezer and something clicking. He hears the ice fall into something and can hear a bag or two making noise.

          Jason comes back with a bag of ice wrapped in a towel and he gently sets it on Dick's knee. Then he tilts Dick's head back against the wooden door and shines a light in his eyes. Dick blinks under the light and Jason has to hold his eyes open.

          “If he gave you a concussion, it's pretty minor. And you're reacting pretty normal so you should be good there.” 

          “When did you get all doctor do-little?” Dick asks.

          “About the same time I started having to be on my own.” Jason pauses before continuing his examination. “As for your jaw, I saw that pretty piece as soon as I saw your face.” Jason hands him another pack, but Dick waves it off. “Can you give me your arm?”

          Dick nods at extends his right arm towards Jason. Jason pulls his glove off and slides the spandex up his arm after taking off his spiked gauntlet. Jason pokes in certain places to gauge Dick's response. When he finishes, he pulls his sleeve back down and puts his gauntlet and glove back on.

          “You were right, he strained your elbow. He might have torn a couple of tendons, only slightly though.” Jason pauses. “Here, let me help you to my room. I'll sleep on the couch.”

          “Jay, I'm not kicking you out of your room.”

          “Dick, that couch is only comfortable if you know how to sleep on it. And right now, you don't need that kind of help.”

          Dick opens his mouth to protest, but he stops. “Okay.” He grabs the pack on his leg.

          Jason grabs his arm and pulls him up. Dick tries to settle a little weight on his leg and it seems okay. His gait is uneven, but at least his leg isn't totally useless. He settles more weight on it with each step and Jason is carefully guiding him. Dick is almost at an even walk when they turn the corner to Jason's room. It's nearly three according to Jason's alarm clock and Dick wonders why he's not out and about.

          “How long were you out tonight?” Dick asks.

          “Only a few hours. I got an early start.” Jason sighs.

          Dick sits on the edge of the bed and swings his bad leg up and bringing up his other one to join it.

          “You know, Dick. I'm surprised that when I came home, Dad didn't demand that I stop killing people.”

          “He couldn't really stop you, Jason.”

          “True, but when I offered to share the money I make with him, he accepted. Why?”

          Dick laughs, and he laughs hard. “You don't know what Bruce does with that money, do you?”

          “No. Should I?”

          “He spends it, of course. But he spends it on you and us, and medical supplies. Mostly you though. He puts all of it into a separate account under your alias....”

          “The Red Hood?”

          “No. Peter Jason Todd. Of course he didn't put it under the Red Hood.”

          “Oh.” Jason looks over Dick's knee again and prods at it again. “It's starting to swell a little. Let's get the ice back on it.”

          “Okay.” Dick hands him the ice again and Jason secures it.

          “When the ice is all melted, you can toss the bag on the floor.” Jason tells him.

He leaves the room and Dick leans back on the bed, exhaling deeply. Why did he come here? He could have exposed both his own and Jason's identities. Well, both of them still had their domino masks on. So maybe not. But it reveals where Dick's trust lies. He can't do this to Jason. Dick throws the ice on the floor and goes out the window. He heads back to his apartment slowly. He just about makes it there when he hears a voice behind him.

“Is something wrong?”

It's Jason's voice.

“No.”

“Then why did you leave?”

“I had to. I couldn't expose you to Deathstroke if he came looking. Why did you follow me?”

“To see where you would go. I knew you couldn't limp all the way back to the manor, so I figured you'd head to your apartment. I want to help you, but you have to let me. What would have happened if I hadn't been there tonight? Do you realize how lucky you are that I was even in that house?”

“I don't know.” Dick treads through the back alley to reach his window.

“How do you expect to get up?” Jason asks. “Cuz you sure as heck aren't climbing.”

Dick shakes his head and jumps for the dumpster. He uses one leg to leap from railing to wall and he can hear Jason sigh below him. Dick reaches his window and looks back just in time to see Jason disappear. Dick slides through his open window and closes it behind him. He hears knocking at his door and sighs. He opens it without looking who it is. “I'm surprised you even knocked.”

“Me too.”

“Come on in.” Dick moves aside to let his brother into his apartment. “You know I'm going to go finish my patrol, don't you?” Dick's leg had started feeling better during his walk, and he felt good to go again.

“Yep.”

“Not gonna try to stop me?”

“Nope.”

“Gonna stick around to make sure I don't kill myself?”

“Yep.”

“Not letting me out of your sight, are you?”

“Nope.”

Dick shakes his head. “Of course not.”

Jason had taken his mask off to get in through the front so he could get to Dick's apartment. Dick watches Jason slip it back on as he goes out the window, landing on the roof of the building next door. When he gets his blood pumping, his knee doesn't seem to bother him anymore. Jason keeps close and they head for the border, aiming to make it look like they're teaming up, not the Red Hood looking out for him. They leap a building gap and a tether wraps around Dick's bad leg and is pulled taught.

Dick crashes into the edge after being pulled down and Dick's grip slips. He falls into the alley and hits the ground from two stories.

“That's gonna leave a mark.” Dick knows that voice.

Deathstroke.

He hears Jason's knife slam into the wall and skid to the ground. Jason lands next to him.

“Ah. And the Red Hood. I should have known. You are on the border of each other's territories after all.” He turns his attention back to Dick. “You slipped away earlier, though I don't know how, Nightwing. I assure you, it won't happen again.”

Jason pulls his gun at the same time Slade pulls his katana. Jason fires and he deflects all the bullets. Dick rushes him and Deathstroke tries to grab for him, but Jason tackles him to the ground. Dick rolls behind him as Deathstroke kicks Jason in the stomach with both feet, slamming him into the alley wall. Jason tries to get back up, but Deathstroke beats him to it, pulling him back to the ground and kicking him in the stomach again. With Deathstroke's added strength, Jason rolls halfway down the alley. He puts his katana away.

Slade pulls his gun to fire on him and Dick jumps on his back. Slade grabs onto Dick's arm and whips him to the ground and stomps on Dick's knee. The bone dislocates and Dick yelps. Slade fires his gun and the bullet goes through his other leg. He shot him in the thigh. Jason finally recovers from being kicked so hard and throws four League stars. Deathstroke looks up in time to catch all but one. It enters his left shoulder. He puts the three he caught in one hand and pulls the fourth out without flinching. He throws them back at Jason and he jumps over them, leaping at Slade.

Deathstroke catches him by the throat and holds him out at arms length. Jason coils his body and kicks him in the face, causing Slade to drop him. He uses kicking Slade to launch himself back, catching himself on his arms and flipping back to his feet. Dick, despite his injuries, gets to his feet. He kicks Slade forwards and he turns back around just as Jason leaps on his back. Dick lands punches on him while he deals with Jason. Slade uses the same move he used earlier to get Dick off his back and holds onto his arm, slamming his boot down on Jason's shoulder. Dick finally decides on the cheep shot. He swings his right leg up, hard. Slade crumpled to the ground, holding the family jewels for a moment before launching himself at Dick and taking fast steps towards him. He grabs onto Dick's hair and slams his head into the wall again. _How did he even stand on his left leg?_

Dick collapses in a heap and doesn't get back up. Jason gets to his feet and fires his gun, but Slade is faster and rolls underneath his fire. Jason left his helmet back at his house in Bludhaven and now he regrets it. Slade swings to daze him by hitting his ears and Jason pulls his arms up on both sides of his head to block the punches.

Hay-makers, every time. Bruce gets him with that one.

It stuns him and Slade grabs his head and pulls their heads together, a sickening sound going through the air as Jason's head meets armor. He doesn't go down though. Still dazed, Slade pulls his head back again and brings Jason's jaw down over his knee. Instead of Jason's head connecting, he moves. But Slade's hold is good and he spins Jason around, locking his arm around his throat.

Jason pulls his knife out of his jacket and jams it backwards towards Slade's stomach. His aim only grazed Slade's armor. Slade uses his free arm to break Jason's hold on the knife and jam it into Jason's already-injured shoulder. Jason cries out, but still doesn't go down. He elbows Slade in the solar plexus and slams his head back. Deathstroke lets him go and staggers back. Jason reaches up and pulls the knife from his shoulder and the blood trails into his hand. In a moment of decisiveness, he flings the knife at him and Slade's eyes widen in surprise. It hits its mark in his chest, but his armor is thick and it doesn't go all the way through. Slade pulls the knife out and laughs.

“You just don't quit, do you? It's too bad it's all for nothing. I have more skill than you and you know it. I'll leave you alone if you let me go. From the rumors I've heard floating around, they say that Nightwing holds no value to you, that you'd rather shoot him than talk to him.”

It's Jason's turn to laugh. “Obviously that's a lie.”

“Is it? Are you _really_ fighting for him in all this? Or is it you that you're fighting for? I've heard about you. You trained with the League, you trained with Talia.”

“Just because I trained with Talia doesn't mean I'm going to let you kill him. He's innocent.”

“Kill him? I'm not going to kill him. And innocent? I think we both know that he's nowhere close to innocent.”

“More so than you or me.” Jason growls.

“What is it about him? He has _no_ value to you, so I have to assume it's something about him. Are you closer than the rumors make you appear?”

“We're not close, but I have nothing against him.”

“Haven't you? He invades your territory and ignores your borders. I've seen it myself.”

“Neutral territory.”

“No it's not. I've seen you defend that border. I watch, silently, from the shadows. You catch him anywhere over that line and you make sure he remembers you. I've watched you beat him to a bloody pulp in the middle of the night when you catch him.”

Jason snarls. “You don't seem to care about boundaries either. You step over them, no matter who's they are.”

“That's because I don't claim territory in Gotham or Bludhaven. I can go where I please.” Deathstroke pauses. “Just let me go and your problem will be solved. His territory will be yours, and he won't be your problem anymore.”

“You act as if he's not a person. I'm not trading people. Never have, never will.”

“It's not a trade. You're not giving anything up. I'm just taking something that you need gone.”

“I don't need anything you have to offer.”

Deathstroke pauses again. “Fine. Have it your way. Just remember that I gave you a way out.”

Deathstroke charges him and Jason ducks his first swing and lands two on his stomach. Slade puts his hands together and brings them down on Jason's back. As he goes to the ground, Jason rolls between Deathstroke's legs and turns around. As Deathstroke turns, he rolls again and puts two thrusts on his back. He flies away and Jason goes to Dick's side, grabbing his paperclip and bobby pin from the lining off his jacket. He sticks them in Dick's mouth along his top gum-line so he won't lose them.

“If I can't save you.” He turns around and Deathstroke is jumping from the building he landed on.

Jason stands stock-still, waiting for Deathstroke to approach. Jason watches as he treads. His pace is even and dangerous. Then he pulls his sniper rifle and fires one round. It hits Jason square in the chest. He armor takes the hit and knocks the wind out of him. He falls to the ground, gasping for breath. Slade rushes up to him and kicks him viciously in the stomach. Jason rolls to protect himself. He gets off the ground and swings at Slade's head, the knuckles on Jason's gloves putting a crack in his mask. Slade staggers back, holding it.

“I'll admit, you're a good fighter, but you don't have what it takes to beat me.”

“Don't be so sure.”

Slade suddenly lashes out, hitting Jason in the chest, startling him. Slade grabs ahold of his head again and forces it into the wall with a shout. Jason discreetly activates his distress so Bruce will come find him when he goes to the ground. Jason groans. And then Slade's boot meets his head and it all goes black.

“I told you. I gave you a way out.”

That's the last thing he hears through his fading consciousness. He can about half-feel the oncoming blows to his stomach. Vicious much?

 

Jason bolts upright, his head whipping around. He's at home, in his bed at the manor. His heart monitor beeps rapidly and Bruce is at the door after a few moments. Jason's head is pounding and he puts a palm to his eye and cringes. Heart monitor? How bad was he when Bruce found him? Bruce sweeps over to the bed in a couple swift motions.

“Are you okay?” Bruce asks.

Jason remembers the events of the night and shakes his head. “No, Dick. Gosh, I let him take Dick.”

Bruce's brow furrows as Jason curls up on his bed. “Wait, what? Dick was there?”

“It was... gosh I can't believe I let him take Dick.”

“I don't think you _let_ whoever-it-was do anything. You look like you put up quite a fight.”

“It wasn't enough!”

“Jason, just calm down. Who took Dick?”

“Deathstroke. He'd been after him before then. He had shown up at my safe-house about an hour before that. I got him settled in, but then he went out the window. He wasn't gonna expose me to him.”

“How was he then?”

“A lot better than he is now!”

“Jason! Calm down! You having a breakdown isn't going to do you or Dick any favors. Just tell me what happened.”

“Deathstroke had caught him around 2:30 I think. They fought. Dick told me he tried to sweep his legs out from under him but Deathstroke didn't jump. Instead, he stomped on Dick's knee. Dick got up, Deathstroke slammed him into a wall. He ran all the way from his territory on his side of Bludhaven to my safe-house close to the middle. I don't even know how he made it, Bruce. You should have seen his knee.”

“Okay. You said he went out the window?”

“Yeah. He didn't want to risk exposing me to Deathstroke, so he left. Dick somehow lost him when he got into my territory. He walked back to his apartment and then jumped up to his window.”

Bruce frowns. “Stubborn kid.”

“And he went back out to finish his patrol.”

Jason inhales deeply, but stops short and exhales quickly with a groan. “How bad?”

“Two broken, two fractured, five bruised. And your shoulder is in rough shape, but nothing too serious. Your stab wound has been seen to, and it should be okay, so long as you don't rip the stitches.”

“How about the rest of me?” Jason asks.

“Your stomach was severely bruised and you were lucky not to have internal bleeding. Your face has seen better days.” Bruce smiles.

“I'm sure. Anything else?”

“Very light bruising around your neck. Bruises all along your back, bloody nose, split lip in two places.”

“And the list goes on, I'm sure.”

“Nope. That's the extent of it.”

Jason leans back across his bed, with Bruce helping him, feeling his wounds. He winces more than once.

“So what about Dick? How bad was he?”

“Worse than me.” Jason turns his head slightly and shuts his eyes.

“How bad?” Bruce asks again.

“Heavy bruising on his left knee, now dislocated. Shot in the upper thigh of his other leg. Bruised jaw, probably bruising along his back, probably a concussion, wrenched elbow, wrenched shoulder is also likely, bruised ego....”

Bruce chuckles. “I'm sure you have that last one too Jason.” Bruce inhales deeply through his nose. “So, what about Deathstroke? What injuries does he have?”

“I cracked his helmet with my fist.”

“Of course you did. What else?” Bruce's mouth twitches.

“He has a small wound on his left shoulder from a League star. Bruised nuts....”

“I'm sorry, what?” Bruce asks, stifling a surprised cough.

“Dick kicked him in the bank.”

Bruce laughs. “Go on.”

“Maybe a bloody nose, I kicked him in the face a few times. Bruising along his back, just like us. I used my _borrowed_ thrust tech and fired him out of the alley. And I didn't know if I could win or not, so I took my bobby pin and paperclip out of my jacket and slipped them into Dick's mouth.”

“You gave him a chance to escape if you got knocked out. You did good.”

“That's all he has for injuries though, and it's not much to go on.”

“It never is. But you gave him a chance.”

Two hours pass and Bruce had stayed with Jason, keeping an eye on him. Jason had told him multiple times that he should be out looking for Dick.

Suddenly, Bruce's phone buzzed. “We've got an alert from the cave. We're receiving a video.”

Jason's blood runs cold. He picks himself free from his monitor and follows Bruce down the stairs to the cave. And boy are the cement stairs of the cave fun on his battered body. Bruce goes to the computer and answers it.

“Hello, Batman.” Slade's voice is behind the camera somewhere. “If you noticed your missing bird, I just wanted to let you know that searching will do you no good. This video is live, so I hope you're watching closely.”

The camera angle shifts to the floor about twelve feet away. The form is on his side, facing away from the camera, but Jason would know that jet black mess of hair anywhere. Deathstroke tells him to face the camera, but he doesn't move. Deathstroke moves along his his body and kneels next to his legs. Jason can about hear his fingers sliding into the bullet wound.

“I said face the camera.”

The form shakes his head and Slade grips his leg harder. Blood runs onto the floor. Dick still shakes his head. Slade's other hand moves to Dick's opposite leg and grips his knee. Dick wheezes choppily with a suffering moan and Jason's blood begins to boil. He turns to face the camera. His arms are tied behind him, and they can't see much of his legs below his calves. He's lying on his stomach, looking sickly.

“That's it.” Deathstroke croons. “Now, Batman. If you want your bird back, you have to deal with me. I give you your partner, and you never mess with me again. Ever.” Deathstroke crouches down next to Dick's head and grabs his hair, pulling his head up. Dick groans. “His life depends on it.”

Deathstroke lets his head go and Dick exhales sharply as Deathstroke turns around, kicking his bullet wound on the way by. “Have fun watching him suffer while you make up your mind.”

He goes out through a door in the back of the room and Dick presses his forehead to the ground. Jason can see him working at the ropes on his back, but his movements are difficult and slow. Jason grits his teeth in anger. Whether it's at himself or Deathstroke, he doesn't know. Dick gets a hand free and he sighs, working his jaw. Jason can see his mouth moving slightly and knows that he realized his only tools. He pulls one hand up to his mouth and the two lock-picking devices fall out.

The lock to the door is opened and Dick quickly hides them back along his gum-line again. He can't tie his hands so he pulls then up and lays them on the ground on either side of his head and breathes heavily, as if resting. Deathstroke strides through the door and sees his hands loose and shakes his head.

Slade comes close and grabs his right wrist to bind them again and Dick tries to keep them out of his reach. Deathstroke uses his knee against him again, stepping on it and settling his weight onto it while leaning up for his left hand. Dick moans, nearly whimpering, but not quite. He's tougher than that. His breaths quaver as Deathstroke grabs his arm and pulls his hand back. He ties his hands together, back to back. Dick's eyes squeeze shut as Deathstroke gets up and leaves again.

Dick opens his eyes and his face is filled with pain.

Jason stares at him intently. “Come on Dickie-bird, you have to get that leg fixed. You've gotta set it right.”

Dick's hands twist in the ropes again, rubbing back and forth to face the knot. He gets his hands untied and Jason prays that Slade isn't watching him. Jason watches him get the pin and clip from his mouth again and he turns over with difficulty. His bullet wound isn't bleeding heavily, but it's bleeding. He pulls his upper body into a sitting position and pulls his shot leg close to him while biting his lip. He pulls the leg of his costume up and while the swelling was obvious on the outside, the skin that he reveals makes Jason want to throw up. His leg is at an awkward angle from the knee down, and the bruising is dark. He'll have to pull it into position somehow. Dick looks at the ceiling, blinking.

He's bracing himself, Jason realizes. Dick scoots back and stops. Rattling catches Jason and Bruce's attention and there's a chain around Dick's left ankle.

_He's going to use the chain._ Jason almost looks away, but he has to know if he gets it set straight.

Dick braces himself again and leans back on straight arms. He shakes with exertion, but he keeps moving. He slides slowly forwards and then jerks himself back, the chain stopping him abruptly and a crack goes through the microphone. Dick's yelp goes through and he sinks back to the floor and shutting his eyes. He passed out. Bruce pulls his chair over and sits down in it and Jason pulls over another and joins him in front of the screen.

Bruce pulls up a box and types rapidly into it. “We're going to send the video link to Oracle, and maybe she can trace the signal's frequency.”

Jason nods, not really caring what he does, as long as he finds Dick. About a half-hour passes as Oracle tries to pinpoint the location, but she has yet to follow it through all the bounced locations. She says she can do it, just that it'll take a little while.

Dick wakes up with a groan.. He turns to the camera. “I don't know if you can hear me, but... I need help. I...” he takes a shaky breath and closes his eyes, listening. “I think I'm underground. I can hear the bullet train passing over. It smells like the water down here.” His face is grave, and blood from his head wound is trailing down his face and into the hollow of his throat. He picks the lock on his ankle.

“Come on, Dick. We need more to go on.” Bruce pleads with the screen.

Dick gets unsteadily to his feet and cautiously takes a few steps. He bullet wound is giving him fits and he stops to grip it to steady himself. He walks over to the back wall and puts his ear to it. “There's plumbing, and light traffic above me.”

“That could be anywhere.” Jason whispers.

“Shh.” Bruce quiets him with a hand on his shoulder. “He's trying. It may not be much. But it's not nothing.”

“So, he's close to the water. It could be the marina, but there's two. The tracks run near both of them, and there's traffic everywhere.”

“Yes, but which one has underground sectors close enough to hear the train. It's not the loudest thing.”

“Gotham port.”

“Come on Dick. Anything else.” Bruce sounds slightly desperate.

“The metal in here smells like copper and steel. The room is old, at least the 1960's.”

“That's my boy.” Bruce looks up the places. “Under Gotham port, places that use copper and steel and are old. There's only one section of construction that dated back to the 60's.”

Dick suddenly stumbled away from the wall to behind where the door would open. The locks disengage and Deathstroke strides in again. He reaches where Dick should be and looks around. Dick slips out the door. His injuries should make him clumsy, by his face is set in determination. He slips out the door and Jason and Bruce watch him slip into the hallway. Dick glances back just as Deathstroke turns around and ducks into a space barely big enough for him. Slade scans the room while Dick tries to fit into the small space. Deathstroke growls and stalks back through the open door, passing Dick's hiding spot just a mere twenty feet from the door.

“We have to go, now!” Jason growls.

“You're not going anywhere in your condition!” Bruce exclaims.

“If we sit here arguing about whether I stay or go, we're costing Dick valuable time. I'm going and you can't stop me, end of story!” Jason jumps into the Batmobile after quickly suiting up and Bruce follows him.

Much as Bruce was loathe to do so, he had picked up Jason's bloody knife in the alley. Jason wiped it off and slid it into his belt. Bruce peels out of the Batcave and heads to the maintenance halls of the port. They encounter heavy resistance once they reach the old sector of the tunnels. None of it stops them. A pained cry sounds through the halls and Jason and Bruce hurry through the halls. More shouts come and they turn down a long corridor. Deathstroke is kicking Dick down the hallway, back towards the cell. The hall itself is more than two-hundred yards long and Bruce and Jason are sprinting, but are helpless to stop Deathstroke from picking Dick up by his throat.

….... Dick's POV

He couldn't fight back, and he couldn't defend well either. He tried to stop Deathstroke from grabbing him, but he's too strong. He glances back and sees a miraculous sight.

Then Slade hits him in the chest and stomach with his free hand while holding Dick out at arms length. Dick struggles to breathe and pull at Slade's hand at the same time. Slade walks with him into the little cell and tosses him like a rag doll. He hits the wall with a groan and tries to get at least to his knees. Bruce and Jason reach Slade and fight him off. Jason gets ahold of him first.

“You again? I figured on the Batman coming to the rescue, but not you.”

“Did you think I'd let you get away? Not after that fight in the alley.”

“You mean my game? You would never have lasted that long by yourself. You were just lucky not to have ended up dead. I was merciful, but that shall not happen again.”

“We'll see.” Jason snarls.

Jason grapples with Slade while Batman gets to Dick's side.

“Are you okay?”

Dick stares up at him. “What kind of question is that? Do you see me?” He's sitting and he gestures to himself.

“I mean can you move on your own?”

“Yeeah, about that.... sort of?” Dick scratches the back of his neck.

Jason's enraged shout brings their attention back to the fight. He pulls his gun and shoots Deathstroke in the stomach. Jason lets Deathstroke stumble past him and out the door.

“Remember, I gave you a way out!” Jason shouts.

Deathstroke growls and rushes down the hallway. Bruce helps Dick to his feet and Jason turns and sees his bloodied face.

Jason walks over to them and turns Dick's head to get a look at his jaw and the sides of his now-bruised face and cheeks.

“Look at you. You're a mess.”

Dick glances over him. “You're one to talk. You get the crap beat out of you without your helmet.”

Dick winces as Jason goes over a particularly tender spot. Jason gets under his left arm, since Bruce is under his right and they limp him out of the cell and back to the surface. Jason climbs the ladder and helps Dick up it when his legs start giving him fits. When he reaches the top, he's sweaty and tired. Of course, he already was, but the climb didn't help. Bruce jumps from the hole and replaces the hatch, then helps Dick out to the Batmobile. Jason gets Dick settled in the back and settles in the front seat. He groans and grips his stomach.

“You okay, Jason?” Bruce asks.

Jason tilts his head back against the seat and shakes it. “No.” He pulls his hand away and reveals a cut across his stomach after lifting up his three shirts. It went straight through his armor.

“Keep pressure on it, Jason.” Bruce tells him.

He closes the roof and they take off at max speed. Bruce takes corners faster than strictly necessary and gets them home as fast a possible. Dick has passed out again from his exertion and blood loss. Jason has also passed out from blood loss. They get to the cave and Alfred meets them with a grim look. Bruce gets his boys out of the car and gets them on rolling tables as quickly and gently as possible.

“Jason first. Dick will last.” Bruce says. “Jason can't lose much more blood.”Alfred nods and quickly sets to work. Dick fades in and out of consciousness and Bruce keeps him stable while Alfred works. Dick sleepily asks about Jason and Bruce tells him that he'll be alright.

Alfred finishes with Jason after making sure that his guts won't fall out and moves to Dick. Alfred takes a list of injuries and Bruce frowns hard when Alfred pulls up his not shot leg and Dick nearly screams. Alfred immediately cuts the fabric away and finds the swelling and color to be extensive.

“Oh my. It's a wonder that he could walk at all.” Alfred mumbles.

Bruce nods along silently. Bruce looks over just in time to see Jason groggily left his head to see what's going on. He doesn't get his vision focused at first, but when he does, his eyes land on Dick knee.

“...Master Bruce.”

“Sorry, what?”

“Ice, Master Bruce, and lots of it.”

Jason gently slides off of his table and slowly moves to Dick's, peeling off his mask. Alfred just sighs and continues his examination. Alfred finds a particularly tender spot and Dick does the sound of his whimpering-groan like in the BPD and Alfred's emotion shows for just a moment. He's angry, and rightly so. Bruce comes back with ice and Alfred takes the sacks and puts some under his leg, and some over his leg. Dick grits his teeth as they get his leg as far into the middle of the ice bag as it can go to envelop him. When Alfred gets to the bullet wound, Dick's eyes snap open with tears in them.

“Alfred, easy, easy.” Bruce urges him.

“I'm... I'm trying Master Bruce, but there's only so much I can do to be gentle and still fix him up.”

“We could sedate him.” Jason suggests.

“In his state, a coma would be a likely result. With major blood loss and trauma, plus the concussion, very likely.”

“Alfred... don't. Just keep working.” Dick begs from the table.

“All right Mater Dick.”

Jason stands near Dick's head and puts his hands on his sweaty mess of hair. Dick looks up at him with gratitude in his tired, pain-clouded expression. Jason looked down at him worriedly.

“I'm going to go after the bullet Master Dick. It appears to still be in your leg.”

Jason had looked up at Alfred, but he looks back to Dick. “Give me your hand. Stay conscious.”

Dick nods and reaches his arm up beside his head and Jason takes it. Alfred digs after the bullet and Dick groans, gripping Jason's hand tightly. The clawed fingers of Dick's costume dig into Jason's arm and he resists the urge to pull away.

“I've got it. I'll just stitch him up, then.”

Dick lets go of Jason's hand and Jason flexes his fingers. Dick giggles. Jason's eyebrows shoot up and he smiles. “Only you could laugh right now, Dick.”

“If you were me, you'd find something to laugh at too.”

“Except I'd never be you. My emotions are lacking.”

“True.”

“Okay, that'll be enough chit-chat. Would you rather stay down here, or in your room.” Alfred cuts in.

“My room, would be great.” He turns on the table to get up. He puts his feet on the ground, but Bruce grabs him. He picks him up under the knees and at his back and carries him.

“Dad...” Dick starts.

“No arguments. Not from you. Not tonight. You're not walking anywhere, for a least a few days.”

“But bridal style? I can handle it.”

“But you don't have to. You need to rest. From what I hear, the Red Hood is taking a break from his crime-lording and staying home for a while, too.”

Jason fumbles. “Whoa, Bruce no. I'd love to, but I can't.”

“Jason, you're staying home. Whether you like it or not, that's an order.”

Bruce starts walking up the steps of the Bat Cave and Jason follows slowly behind. Bruce slows and waits for him, letting him pass in front where Bruce can keep a good eye on him. Jason doesn't even seem to mind Bruce's caution. Color Bruce surprised. Jason treads slower and slower as he gets close to his room, obviously ready to be done for the night. Well, early morning.

“Jay. Could you keep me company? I need to stay up for awhile, at least, that's what Alfred says.”

Jason turns and nods slowly. He opens the door for Bruce and slips in after him. Bruce settles him on his bed and was about to let go when Dick wouldn't let him go, trapping him with arms around his neck. Bruce lowers back down and hugs him, letting a hand go up to his hair.

“Be good Dick.”

“You know me. Rambunctious as a lazy cat.”

Bruce lets him lean back and Jason bounces up on the bed. Well, more of flops, but hey, what's he going to do. Bruce got both of his boys back in relatively one piece.

What's he going to do?

Christmas is three days away. Both Damian and Tim have the flu, and Jason and Dick were both nearly dead. He'll ask them what they want to do later. He turns out of Dick's room and heads down the hallway. And of course, it wasn't there before they left, they didn't notice when they came in, but the house is decorated for Christmas.

Alfred, always so diligent. Bruce smiles. He goes to his room and sleeps for what's left of the darkness, then goes to check on his older boys again. If Jason was awake he'd call him a doting mother. He silently opens Dick's door and finds Jason on one side of the bed and Dick on the other. Jason is on his back, probably a good thing, and Dick is on his stomach. Usually Dick would wrap around his brother, but he's obviously more aware when he sleeps than he realizes.

Jason's breathing is still wheezy and hard, but he's pushing through it. He sounds about like Damian and Tim. Damian was pretty sure he'd beat the cold into submission. Tim had had it since the month began, but it was minor, but he had ever so gladly given it to Damian.

Jason groans in his sleep and Bruce approaches quietly. Dick rolls over and opens his eyes and Bruce can feel them boring into his own gaze. He smiles for just a fleeting second before closing his eyes again.

How long did Jason keep him awake? Or did he just not actually fall asleep? Or maybe nervousness is making how aware he is when he's asleep wacky. Makes no difference to Bruce. It was still creepy, even for Dick.

Jason groans and his hand reaches down to his stomach and he sits up. Dick's eyes flutter open again and he watches.

“You okay, Jaybird?” he asks.

“Peachy. I'm just sore, don't worry about it. You either dad. Go back to sleep. It's Saturday.”

“Alright, just holler if you need anything.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Jason waves him away.

 

Two days later, Jason has escaped Bruce's watch and Dick is on painkillers, so he barely notices (always been a hopeless loon on drugs). Bruce isn't really looking for him because when it comes to normal routine, the Red Hood can take care of himself. That, and Damian and Tim still have the flu.

Around 9:00, Bruce had gotten Dick out of the mansion to go gift-shopping and he knew just what to get. Bruce wasn't so sure, still isn't, about what Dick got for Damian, but he had insisted with blue puppy eyes of doom and he was hurt so Bruce let him get it. Dick got tired after the first fifty presents, and Bruce took him home.

He still wasn't sure if Jason would show up. He hadn't the year before, even though he had come home. He claimed he was busy, but there were a couple things under the tree from him, so no one complained. But one thing Bruce is sure of this year is that Dick needs him a little more right now. Dick had called him to ask him if he was coming, but he had said no. Dick, as usual, was disappointed.

…... Jason, five til midnight, safe-house number 12.

Jason had called it early because, even he takes a break for Christmas Eve. He falls asleep on his bed and is woken up about five minutes later. He doesn't know what it is, but he knows something's there. He pulls his gun.

“Come on, Jaybird, there's no need for that.” Dick's voice.

Jason turns, but sees no one. Then a thin silhouette forms in his doorway. “What are you?”

“I'm the ghost of....”

“Aw, come on. Screw this.” he shoots the spirit in the head, wakes up and shakes his own head. “I've seen Muppet's, thanks, but no thanks.”

Jason rubs his eyes, then hops out of bed. “Fine, just fine. If it'll make you leave me alone. Gosh dang it, I'm talking to myself.”

He goes out and buys seven gifts for each, just, reasons. Alfred too. Throws in a couple little doo-dads, then hoofs it on home, avoiding sensors and things like that with his merry bag of crap over his shoulder. He arranges it under the tree, seeing things for him, which is surprising because he never shows up.

He turns the fire on and sleeps on the couch to make sure no one knows he's home. The couch is a pretty nice place to sleep. Because Bruce is rich and gets _awesome_ furniture. About three, he feels something drape over him and knows that Alfred probably realized he was there.

When he wakes up in the morning, it's to Bruce's warm hand on his head. Jason moans a little, knowing he shouldn't have slept on his stomach, but the position was comfortable when he fell asleep. He twists onto his side and sees Bruce standing there.

“Time is it?” Jason asks.

“Time to wake up.”

“So specific, thanks. So stupid o' clock in the morning, huh?” he groans and opens his eyes, seeing something he hadn't expected. Dick is on the couch opposite him, asleep still. “How long has he been there?” Jason points drearily.

“Since he found you early this morning I guess. I don't know what time you got here. He couldn't sleep and he wanted to move around. I told him no, of course, but he's so stubborn. He got up out of bed and nearly fell at the first step. I came and picked him up of course before he could hurt himself and I agreed to carry him around since he wouldn't go back to sleep. He saw you on the couch when we were passing by and clamped a hand over his mouth. At first I thought I was hurting him somehow, but then he shook his head and pointed to you. I brought him in and lowered him to sit on the other couch and then I put the blanket over you. I heard him moving and I turned to stop him, but he had laid down on his stomach. He drifted off not long after that and I went back upstairs.”

Jason had put his hand back down and was slowly fading out of consciousness again. Bruce shakes his head, but lets him go back to sleep. He needs it.

Damian descends the stairs and comes into the den. “Morning, Father. I trust that Todd is here to stay?” he says stuffily.

“Hmm. Not sure yet. But he showed up, so that's a good sign.”

“Well, if he chooses not to stay, Dick will be distressed. I catch him doing something strange Father, and I don't know what to make of it.”

“What does he do?” Bruce asks.

“I'll find him curled up in the windowsill of Jason's room. I had assumed at first that it was because he missed him, but even now that Jason has returned, I still find him there.”

“Have you ever gone in to see why he was there?”

“No. Sometimes he seems peaceful, and I did not wish to disturb him. Other times he seems sad. I don't know why he goes there.” Damian's face is confused.

“Think of it this way, Damian. When Jason died, Dick was alone. Sure, he had me and Alfred, but he loved having a brother. He never cared for Tim much because it wasn't the same. So he would sit in Jason's room and remember. He of course loves Tim, and he loves you a ton, but Jason always seemed to fill something in him. They used to butt heads a lot, playfully, sometimes not. But Dick seemed to enjoy his opposite traits. Dick is bright and happy, Jason is mischievous and angry. He enjoyed turning Jason's emotions inside out until he couldn't be angry anymore. But when he died, Dick got quiet. He had already taken off for Bludhaven, and I barely saw him once he got the news.

Now Jason's back and Dick has that chance again, and now he feels the need to fill that hole while Jason's not in the mansion. And Jason might actually be here sometimes and he could be watching over him. Jason could be sleeping and Dick with sit with him until morning, not wanting to turn around and have him not be there. Until Jason came back, I don't think he ever really felt at home here anymore.”

Damian takes a moment to consider everything that Bruce had just said. “Do you think I should join him sometimes?” he asks.

Bruce smiles. “I think he'd like that, Damian. He might feel less alone.”

“What do you think he's thinking when he sits out in the rain?”

Bruce raises a brow. “In the rain, as in on Jason's balcony?”

Damian nods.

“Both Jason and Dick love the rain. It always made them feel calm. Especially Jason. Dick caught him out there once, lying out in the middle in the little dip. A puddle always forms there, and Alfred despises it.”

Damian chuckles.

“Well, Jason would lie in it and let the rain and water soak him to the bone, then come inside and he'd feel better. Anyway, Dick caught him out there once when it was nearly freezing, Jason of course had gone out in the rain when it was warmer, but fell asleep out there. Dick thought he was dead, but then Jason had picked his head up and smiled. Dick sat down and they both nearly froze out there, but Alfred found them and made them bundle up under their covers.”

A voice startled both him and Damian, but they stay still.

“Totally....” Dick says quietly.

“Worth it.” Jason answers.

Bruce chuckles softly. Alfred strides in. “Breakfast shall be ready in ten Masters.”

Jason starts to get up off the couch, groaning almost the whole way. Bruce steadies him a little and Dick sits up on the couch, bending his left knee over the edge gingerly. Damian coughs and sniffles, moving into the kitchen. He hops up on a stool and accepts the medication in a small cup that Alfred put out.

“Good to see we are past complaints, Master Damian.”

Damian does his little 'Tt' and delves into his breakfast. Jason turns back to see Bruce lift Dick off the couch and bring him out to sit in the kitchen. He still doesn't seem too thrilled about being carried. Bruce lets him pick a chair and he sits down next to him. Suddenly a huge sneeze is heard from upstairs and Bruce chuckles.

“I'll go and get Tim.”

When Bruce comes back with Tim, it's pretty obvious he's sick. His eyes are sunken, he's pale, and carrying his own personal box of tissues.

“Hey Tim, looking good.” Jason jokes.

“You're one to talk, you seen your face recently?” Tim asks with a small smirk.

“S'not exactly my fault.” Jason answers. He looks like he's about to fall asleep over his new plate of breakfast.

Bruce gets Tim up on a stool and ensures he can't fall off if he sneezes. Tim shrugs.

“Honestly Drake. It's a wonder you haven't died.” Damian comments, sneezing.

Tim glares, but the effect is ruined by his sickly face. “You caught it too.” he sniffs.

….. After breakfast.

Bruce carries Dick back out to his spot on the couch and Jason sits with him, close enough for comfort, but far enough not to disturb any wounds. Tim and Damian sit apart from each other on the other couch where Jason had slept. Even Alfred sits down, but he sits with Dick and Jason to not get sick.

Bruce goes to the tree and pulls out a present for each of them. Jason's first is from Dick, and Dick's first is from Damian. Tim's first is from Dick and Damian's first is from Jason. Bruce's first is from Tim and Alfred's first is from Damian.

Dick opens his first, as the oldest. Dick cringes away from it as he opens the box. (From Damian)

Nothing explodes.

Dick sighs in relief and the peers into the box. He inhales sharply and closes his eyes. Something drips onto the box and Jason looks carefully inside. It was a tear. Inside the box is a picture of them all together (Drake included) Alfred is holding his tray and Jason and Dick have their arms over each other's shoulders. Damian and Tim are on either side of Bruce. They're all smiling at the camera.

Jason sighs. Dick is moved by a picture. He hasn't even opened two gifts yet and he's already breaking out the happy tears.

Jason goes next and rips the paper off the box with a vengeance. He opens the lid and sees Dick's gift. “Must you be so hopeless?” Jason asks.

It contains a Batmobile figure with no wheels.

Tim opens his present in an almost OCD way. He opens the box and... tissues?

“Gee, thanks Dick-head. I needed more of these just to remind me that I'm still sick.”

“Tim.” Bruce admonishes.

“No It's okay. That's a special box of tissues, though.” Dick pouts.

“Will they give me immunity to the flu?” he asks.

“No.” Dick wrinkles his nose. “If you don't want to know, then I won't tell you.”

Tim shakes his head and sets the box aside though. He'll use them. He knows he will. Damian opens his and actually rips the paper to shreds (with a vengeance!). He then proceeds to scan the box, shake and tilt, and any number of things before he finally opens the dang thing. It's simple. It's an old China cup with a red dragon emblem on the side.

Damian tilts it against the fire light. “Thoughtful, Jason. I'm surprised that someone with your amount of brainpower was able to decide that something as small as this would be a helpful gift.”

Jason snorts. “Gee thanks kid.” he mutters 'demon spawn' under his breath.

Bruce and Alfred open at the same time and smile. They move on. Damian opens the present from Dick that Bruce wasn't so sure about, but the small parka seems to be a hit with the little ninja.

…................................ I give, make up your own Christmas gifts.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't say I didn't warn you. I'll fix all the formatting later, but it's late and I'm lazy.


	14. Mob Days and Trauma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick Grayson goes back to work, but he's not as pulled together as he thinks.

Ah, the simple missions, Jason thinks. That's what he enjoys. And though he has no idea why Killer Croc would be in Bludhaven, he chases him anyway. Jason is trying to shove down unrestrained joy, very weird, he knows. Dick is on a mission with Bruce, all is right with the world.

Wait, what?

That can't be right. He must be imagining things. So naturally, he wakes up.

Jason groans and rolls over in his bed. Stupid. Plain stupid. Jason rolls off the bed and onto his feet, shuffling blindly for his clothes. He opens his eyes and everything is blurry. He blinks a few times and rubs his eyes. His shirt from yesterday is across the tiny living room and next to the front door.

What? He could have sworn that he had thrown it on his bedroom floor. Jason almost thinks it's something bad when he hears a heart-warming moan from the couch. Right. Dick had slept here last night.

That still doesn't explain why his shirt is over by the door.

“Jay?” Dick calls out.

Jason grabs a new shirt and slips it over his head and goes out into the living room. Now that Dick is almost healed up, he insisted that Jason sleep in his own bed. Bruce agreed to let him out on patrol on the term that he calls if he needs help. So he was getting himself thrown through walls and he called Jason. Well, Killer Croc is actually a good reason.

He's a little banged up, but he'll live. “Yeah, Dick?”

“My clothes are missing. Is that a problem?”

“What?”

“I asked if my clothes being missing was a problem.”

Jason looks again at the door and now that he's closer he realizes that it's not just his shirt, but Dick clothes are over there too. He goes over to the little pile of clothes and is about to pick them up when he sees something very strange in the middle. It's a small black kitten.

“Dick?”

He groans from the living room. “Yeah Jay?”

“Do you have a cat?”

“Are you kidding me right now?” Jason can hear Dick heaving himself off the couch and walking slowly to Jason's room.

“Dick are you...”

“Raiding your closet? Yes I am!”

_Wow, he's snappy in the morning._ Jason picks the little kitten up the same time the mother cat comes back through the window. She hops to the floor with a dead rat in her jaws. She sees Jason and freezes, her back automatically arching.

He hears Dick groan and he puts the kitten down to go check on his brother. He walks into his room and doesn't see Dick for a moment, but he looks around and spots him in a corner, curled in on himself.

“Dick? Are you okay?”

Dick shakes his head and Jason sighs, sitting down next to him. Dick gets flashbacks and they scare him a lot.

“What this time?” Jason asks.

“Death... _Deathstroke_.” he whispers.

Jason wraps his arm around Dick's shoulders and Dick leans into him. _Dick can barely say his name without flinching._ Jason lets Dick ground himself.

“Hey Dick?”

“Yeah?”

“I got a call last night and Bruce is expecting to see us at home.”

“Dad doesn't always get what he wants.” Dick answers.

Jason gasps. “You do have a little rebel in your soul!”

Dick chuckles and swipes a finger under his eyes. “Jay, how do you deal with it? With all the memories?”

“The same way I always have. I ignore them.” Jason gives Dick's shoulders a squeeze. “Dick, you're strong, stronger than you realize even after all this time. You should be a lot more messed up than you are, and I know you can get through this. It's going to feel like you're broken for a little while, even when you should feel completely fine. You're going to be okay.”

Dick leans his head onto Jason's shoulder. “Jay, how did you get so smart?”

“I watch to many emotional movies.”

“You don't watch movies unless I make you.”

“I have an emotional wreck for a brother?”

“Hey, now!” Dick shoves him lightly.

“Dick, you can't deny the truth. Just like you want to all the time. You don't want to admit that Deathstroke scares you. You already know how to beat him, but your fear takes over. I know you Dick, it'll keep you down when you should come up fighting if you let him keep scaring you.”

“I don't know how to stop.”

“Well, first. What is it about him that scares you so much?”

“I don't feel in control. He takes away my options.” Jason can feel a growing wet spot on the shoulder of his shirt.

“Then you'll have to find a way to make new ones.”

“When I have the opportunity, I'm either A, heavily injured, or B, backed into a corner.”

Jason holds himself steady at the mention of the two horrible letters.

'What hurts more? A? Or B? Forehand? Or backhand?'

“Jay? You're really stiff all of a sudden. You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. It's not me we should be worried about.”

“Then who should we be worried about?”

“Tim and you.”

“Tim?” Dick asks.

“Bruce told me that it seemed like he got better, but then he relapsed.”

“Maybe he'll get to the bottom of that box of tissues I got him.”

“What's in that anyway?”

Dick laughs. “It's a surprise.”

“Come on Dick. You know I won't tell.”

“It's...” He stiffens up, his body pulling in. He groans.

“Dick?”

“My legs are cramping.” He mutters, pushing his face into Jason's shoulder.

“You want your pain meds?”

“It'll go away in a second. And my pain meds make me woozy.”

“Pretty sure that's their job.”

“Then their job sucks.”

Jason laughs and gets up from the corner, pulling Dick up with him. Dick whines. Jason helps him make his way until his legs stop cramping and Dick moves into the kitchen where Jason makes pancakes. Jason of course ensures that his pancakes have swimming lessons, and Dick scolds him. Dick and Jason were both thoroughly surprised that Bruce hadn't made them all come home for Easter. Damian had kicked his cold into submission and gotten over it before January came along.

“So, how bad is Tim?”

“Bruce thinks we should come see him.”

Dick takes a slurp of water. “Is he dying?”

“Not yet.” Jason smirks.

“He keeps up having the flu, he just might.”

Jason's phone rings and he picks it up. “Yeah, Bruce?” he puts it on speaker.

“Jason. Is Dick with you?”

“Yeah, he's here.”

“Good. I found footage of him getting knocked around and I wondered if he had actually done what I told him.”

“Dad, I may do foolish things, but I am no fool.”

Jason quirks a brow. “That makes no sense.”

“Just be careful. Oh, and Tim is getting a little better again. He says he found something interesting at the bottom of a tissue box.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jason asks, a sly smile forming on his face.

“Yeah, he told me to tell you about it. He wants you guys to stay away though.”

“Thoughtful of him.” Dick says.

“Alfred's making him take an iodized bath right now.”

“Good ole Alfred.” Jason sighs. “You take care Bruce. We'll see you soon.”

“Take care of each other. You always have.” The line cuts.

Jason puts his phone away and Dick pushes his plate forwards so he can rest his head on the table.

Jason remembers something. “Oh, crap!”

“What?”

“The cat.”

“What ca... oh. The cat you asked me if I had?”

“Yep.” Jason gets up and moves to the door and finds both animals missing. The only thing left is the tail of the rat the cat dragged in. Gross.

“Hey, Dick?” Jason picks up the little specimen.

“Yeah?”

“I've got something awesome to put on your pancakes this morning.”

“Don't even show it to me. Throw it away.” Dick grumbles.

“I'm shrugging at you. And fine, suit yourself.” Jason tosses it away and cleans up the clothes.

“Well, looks like it's shaping up to be a fairly long day. Feel like going out and doing like, I don't know. What do you do during the day?”

“This thing called my day job.” Dick groans, getting up from Jason's table and moving into the bathroom to brush his hair and teeth.

“So, when do you sleep? I remember the last time I was there and you were sleeping on your desk.”

“I wasn't sleeping. And Jay, I have been on sick leave ever since I 'broke my legs on a skiing trip in the mountains'. So I haven't been to work. Today is my first day back.”

“Want me to come?”

Dick throws him a look. “I... sure. What could go wrong. Nick hates me, so beware. He's a jerk.”

“Ha, like that would bother you. You deal with me all the time.”

“Jay, I at least have moments with you where I don't care about all of the mean things you say or do because you always end up comforting me somehow. Nick isn't that way.”

“Maybe I can knock his lights out.”

“Jay.” Dick scolds. “You're _not_ knocking out the people I work with.

“Fine, I'm still coming with you though.”

“Maybe you could join. It would do you some good to be around people who aren't us all the time.”

“Dick, you know my people skills are lacking. And I'd be no good to anyone as a cadet.”

“With your skills, you could become a detective in no time. I could actually give you a recommendation and you could be my trainee.”

“Ha! I'd school you under the table.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But only if you decide to try it.”

Dick jogs back to his apartment and Jason takes his motorcycle, meeting him when he reaches the doorstep. “Nice of you to join me.”

“My motorcycle is here, waiting for me to ride it. So...”

“You could have ridden with me.”

“Where's the fun in that? And it feels good to stretch my legs.”

Twenty minutes later, they walk into the precinct and it's buzzing with activity. Ramirez is handing out the caseloads.

“That's Ramirez. She and I worked together a lot when she worked with Gordon, but she has her own unit now.”

“Blake?” she calls questioningly, not knowing if he's there or not.

Nick is about to raise his hand to take his case when Dick waves his hand from the back of the crowd. “Here.” he says in a soft, but somehow loud voice.

The woman, Ramirez, smiles as the crowd turn with claps and Dick lets a wide grin spread on his face. His fellow officers pat him on the back with 'so good to see yous' and 'glad you recovered'.

Nick isn't happy.

Ramirez wades through the mob of shaking hands and gives Grayson the manila envelop. She finishes handing out the rest of the cases and Jason and Dick stop by Dick's desk. His mailbox is empty. Not even paperwork. Huh.

Jason asks where the bathroom is and steps out for a moment. Dick sits down in his chair and is about to open his file when a hand slams down on it.

“Glad to see you're back, _John._ ”

“It's great to be back, Nick. Thanks for taking my caseloads while I was gone.”

“You weren't getting anything done.” he growls.

“Because I had more pressing matters.” Dick turns in his chair. “You know, two broken legs will do that to you.”

Nick kicks the leg that had the bullet in it, it had turned out the bullet had hit bone which had meant it had taken longer to get stronger again. Nick had kicked it at just the right angle to make it smart. He hadn't even kicked it very hard, just in the right direction.

Dick barely bats an eyelash. Barely, and Nick catches it.

“Ooh, still hurting a little are we, Blake?” he grins.

“I would help if you didn't kick my legs.” Dick flashes him a smile.

Nick's grin turns to menace. “I'll keep that in mind.”

A hand lands on Nick's shoulder. “And just what do you think you're doing?”

Nick spins around, met with Jason's towering personality and height. Nick frowns. “Who are you?”

“I'm his brother. And I'd prefer it if you didn't go looking for trouble.”

“What are you gonna do? Assault a cop?”

“I might. If you do.” Jason crosses his arms and Dick realizes why he wears the leather. It tightens around his shoulders, creaking dangerously.

Nick frowns. “You don't scare me, punk. I don't care if you're the president's brother, but you won't get me to back down.”

Ramirez is watching them, glaring in Nick's direction.

Jason leans in. “You try it, and I will make you wish you were never born.”

“Are you threatening me, little brother? Can big brother not take care of himself?” He flashes a wry grin at Dick.

“John can take care of himself, I'm just more than a little ticked that he's barely here for a half-hour before someone starts getting all up in his face.”

Dick sighs and leans back in his chair. “Both of you just shut up for three seconds. Nick, go do whatever the heck you were doing before you came to my desk, and you...” he points at Jason. “sit down and behave yourself. There will be no assaulting officers for you today.”

Nick moves back towards his own desk and not so carefully nudges the side of Dick's head with his elbow on the way by. As Nick gets settled into his own chair, Dick turns back to Jason.

“What's wrong with you?”

“Dick...”

“No, Jason. I can handle my problem at work. Nick is just sour because I took his case from him.”

“You didn't take anything. It was your case. She specifically asked for you and he has zero right to be angry.”

Dick laughs? “Look at you, Jason. You're getting worked up over nothing. I can seriously take care of myself here, and nothing that you do or say will change that. I'll be okay.”

“Fine, handle it your way.”

Dick slides the file out of the envelop and takes a look at the pictures. Multiple homicides. They all look like J Squad killings. Harley is back at it, her and her hooligans.

“Jay, take a look at this.”

“Dick, I'm pretty sure I don't work here. You can't boss me around.” he says as he sits down.

“Jay, you should look anyway. The J Squad is out and about.”

“What?” Jason snags the papers from his hands and flips through the pictures. “I don't know Dick. These could be Mafia killings, look at the weapons they used.”

“Yeah, but look at the trajectories of the bullets.”

“That means nothing if they were on motorcycles. It wouldn't matter, the evidence isn't enough to suggest J Squad.”

“It isn't enough to accuse the Mafia either.”

Jason grins. “Looks like it's time to visit the scene of the crime.”

“I thought you didn't want to help.” Dick squints at him.

“I just want to be able to prove you wrong.” Jason smirks.

Dick gets up from his desk, grabbing his coat and is about to walk out the doors when they slam open.

“Well, well, well. Look what we have here.” A Mafia man in a mask comes into the room. “A bunch of cops earning their pay. We've been working all week to get your attention this time, but you just don't seem to be listening. So listen up!”

Jason remembers saying the exact same thing to some other people. 'Listen up....' and then his speech to the eight major crime bosses.

More Mafia men come in and Dick doesn't move back. They push him back, but he's like stone. He stays put.

“Ooh, tough guy over here doesn't want to move.”

They fire a warning shot next to Dick's foot, but he doesn't move it or flinch. Jason could almost smile at his impressive show of bravery. Another warning, this one closer. Still no movement.

A huge man walks in, two silver guns, one for each hand. “Where's Gordon? I don't think we had an appointment, but there seems to be an opening with all you busy folks around here.

“Enough with the jokes.” Dick responds, sounding almost bored.

The silver gunned man walks over to him, circling him once. “And just who might _you_ be?”

“No one important.”

“Really? Then if you're not important, why are you standing out here, instead of with your fellow officers, cowering behind the desks?”

“Because I'm not afraid.” Dick grin is psychotic looking.

Jason frowns. Maybe after all this time, he's finally gone bonkers.

The boss man frowns. He's wearing a red bandanna that makes his face look beastly, and the scar on the side of his face more gnarled.

“Will SOMEONE please, tell me who this idiot is?”

Nick of course steps forwards. “He's Gordan's second lieutenant. He's _supposed_ to run the place when he's gone.”

“Oh, really?” he smiles, predatory. “And that would make the first lieutenant who? You?” he points to Nick.

His face is puckered like he swallowed something sour. “No.”

“It's me.” Ramirez marches into the center of the room, standing shoulder to shoulder with Dick. Well, almost, he's about eight inches taller.

“Ah, and here we have the two left over. Well boys, this should be enough to get Gordon's attention. After all, we do have both of his lieutenants.”

Jason pulls his gun (the one he has a concealed carry for) and aims at the main man's head. He reacts, wrapping an arm around Ramirez' throat.

“Easy, boy. You do anything rash and I'll blow her brains all over the ceiling.”

Jason pulls back the hammer. “You do anything of the sort, and I'll have you sorted in less than a second.”

He laughs and lets Ramirez go, leaving himself open. Jason aims with one hand and closes one eye.

“No.” Dick's voice demands him to stop.

He struggles not to call Dick by his name. “John, this could be over.”

“You'll start a bloodbath, and we'll lose more officers than we can handle. Be wise, for once.” Dick looks back at him for mere seconds, and Jason knows that Dick really needs him to go along with this.

“If I don't, he'll kill us all to get Gordan's attention.”

Then Nick does something incredibly stupid. He charges the leader.

“Hold your fire!” he shouts.

His men do as they're told. Dick plants himself in front of him and Nick's mass knocks Dick to the floor.

“Blake, what are you doing?”

Dick gets up. “I'm stopping you from killing yourself.”

Dick moves Nick behind him and then Jason sees his mistake. Nick whispers something to Dick that lip-reads to 'Nothing personal, Blake' and a knife flicks out. Jason shoots the blade and the knife flies out of Nick's hand.

“John, move away from Nick.” Jason growls.

But he doesn't react fast enough. Another thug pulls a knife and Nick pushes him forwards. Dick blinks as the knife plunges in.

Ramirez gasps and looks down at her stomach. Blood is spreading across it and dripping onto the floor. She stumbles and Jason rushes to help her while Dick scrambles in her direction too.

“Ramirez!” Dick shouts.

“John, I'm okay.”

“No, you're not, you just got stabbed!”

“If you don't calm down, I'll stab you. Just shut up and help me.”

Dick moves to push his hands on her wound, but the men pull him back. More block Jason from reaching Dick.

Dick struggles. “What are you doing, she'll die! Ramirez. You've got to let me help her! Jay!”

Jason takes his cue, raising his gun again and pulling the trigger several times. Then the precinct is quiet. Dick falls to the floor, his human barriers falling too. Ramirez coughs and Dick scrambles back over to her. Jason frowns. In all the commotion, the leader slipped away. Nick is dead.

Dick gets pressure on Ramirez's wound and the ambulances show up. She's going to be okay. Dick hugs Jason and Jason actually hugs him back.

“You idiot.” Jason mumbles into his shirt. “You shouldn't have gotten in the middle.”

“It wasn't my fault, and besides, I still have a case to solve because the killer is still out there. The caliber of the bullets at the scene matches the gun in the leader's hand.”

“He got away.”

“That's why we're chasing him!” Dick sing-songs.

And he's out the door. Jason races after him, leaving all of the lower-class officers to clean up the aftermath. The scene of the first crime is under a bridge, a rich woman, who left behind two sons and a daughter. The second scene is on the main drive of Gotham, a known informant of Batman. The third was a docks killing, a drug dealer who had been selling Vertigo form Starling City. The fourth was a government official who will remain unnamed gunned down in Gotham Plaza. The fifth was a Joker impersonator who had it all down except for the costume, killed in a warehouse of course.

They all had one thing in common. Having been associated with Batman before. Jason's honed senses picked up the sound of a hammer pulling back not far away. He tackles Dick behind a crate and the bullet mars the floor. Dick groans, his head having smacked the cement fairly hard.

“You okay?”

“Peachy.” Dick rolls over and pulls out his duty weapon.

“You're not actually going to use that, are you?”

“No one said anything about me using it. Yours probably doesn't have much ammo, mine has a full clip.” He pushes the gun towards Jason and Dick slides his body up against the crate.

He hides it well, Jason thinks. He's scared, and is literally asking Jason to protect him, but he's putting on a brave face. Jason takes the gun. He peeks up over the crates and gets a glimpse of the shooter before a bullet whips past his head. He pops up again and fires twice, for good measure. The shooter drops from the catwalk and falls on his head.

Dick gets to his feet and sighs. “Goody. An incident report to fill out for me.” he runs a hand through his hair and puts his hand out. Jason gives his gun back and Dick slips it into his holster.

“Please, like that's a huge deal.”

“It is when I have like five of them to fill out before I go home, and I have a case to solve.”

“How about this? You go do your work, I go work your case? Yeah? Go on, shoo.” Jason gestures him away. “I'll go work the streets.”

Dick moves to exit the building, but when the door opens he yelps and slams it shut, rolling away. The door gets riddled with holes and Dick gets to his feet.

“Jay, we're trapped here.”

“Not if I can help it. You see that window at the back?” Jason points.

“Yeah.”

Bullets rain down on the through the walls and Jason gets clipped in the shoulder, sending him to the floor for a moment. “Run!” he shouts to Dick.

Dick grabs ahold of Jason and gets him back up. They rush to the window and Dick checks to make sure someone isn't going to kill them as soon as they roll out of it. Jason gets it open via smashing the window. Dick hops out and he moves out into the back alley.

“Come on, Jason. Up to the roof.” Dick pushes him up the fire escape and Jason moves as fast as he can, his shoulder slowing him down.

Dick urges him forwards and Jason hastens his pace. He can feel the blood running down his arm and across his chest. He ignores it.

Dick looks down, and the men are nowhere to be seen. Then they come around the building. Dick gives Jason a shove onto the roof and Jason rolls onto his back. He gets back to his feet and points towards his closest safe-house. (Even though, yes, it is technically is Dick's territory. Who cares, right?)

House number five. He has one in Gotham too, but Bruce doesn't know that. “Go, Dick. You have to get there, even if I don't.”

“Jay, I'm not leaving you here!”

“I know you're not. I'm coming, but if it comes down to it, you are escaping.”

“Jay, please.”

“Just get moving!” Jason gives him a shove

Dick runs and takes a flying leap to the next building and Jason follows shortly behind. He gives Dick directions as they run and Dick does his best.

They reach the safe house, and it doesn't appear they were followed. Jason pants, his whole sleeve having a thin cover of blood, and little streams of it across his front. He shrugs out of his hoodie and reveals the damage. Dick turns around to ask him if he's okay, but instead he gasps.

“Jay, your arm.”

His hand has blood dripping from it and his heart is pounding in his chest, making his vision pulse. He nods toward the bathroom. “Get my first aid kit.”

Dick just nods. Jason's vision swirls in a tight circle and he stops himself from hacking up his stomach contents. The adrenaline dies down and Dick comes back from the bathroom. The kit is in his hands and he's rifling through it as he walks.

Jason looks down at his arm. So much for it only clipping him. “Jay, I'm not a doctor. I don't even know if it's as bad as it looks.”

“Dick, I'm bleeding. Just determine if it hit anything, if so stop it, if not, stitch me up.”

“O.. Okay.” Dick gets him to sit on the couch and he puts enough pressure on it to separate his shoulder from his body, if that were possible. Dick prods at it for a moment before deciding to just stitch him up.

Jason has to say that Dick's stitches truly are a work of art, given they're more skillfully done than his own.

“Is that okay?” Dick asks.

“Well, I'm not dying, so that's a good sign you did something right.” Jason chuckles.

Dick laughs lightly, unconvinced.

“Dick, I'll be okay.”

“Yeah, I know Jay, it's just.... We didn't even catch the leader. His men did this to you and we didn't even get him.”

“Dick, listen to you. You're starting to sound like me, and I'm starting to sound like you. You have got to stop this. You are picking up all these emotions and you have awful self-loathing problems. Bruce has rubbed off on you.”

Dick takes a step back as if Jason had slapped him. “Jay.”

“Just, let me go on, okay?”

Dick seems unsure. _Do I really want the rest of what's coming?_ Dick nods.

Jason nods too. “Okay. Dick, I know, that you've been having a really hard time lately. And I've been trying to help as much as I can. But honestly, you're getting to be a lot to handle.”

Dick laughs. “Says the one that I just stitched up.”

“Hey, you agreed to let me talk.”

Dick raises his hands in defeat. “Okay, you go on.”

Jason pulls Dick over to the couch and settles him on it. “You've been through a lot. Maybe more than me by now. And you've bottled it up as much as possible to save us pain. But you're not doing yourself any favors. First it was me getting hurt, then you and then us, and so on. But ever since the first time we dealt with Deathstroke this year, it's been hard.”

Dick flinches at the name.

“That's what I mean. Right there. He has scared you enough that he has power over you, and it's starting to affect your decisions in your job, and in your nightly activities. And then there's the Joker, and so many others. Dick, you came into this life because Bruce saw who you were, and he knew that you could be great. But letting everything tear you down like this is stripping away your strong heart. Why do you think you've survived for so long?”

Jason looks back at Dick's face and tears are starting to drip from his eyes. Jason wraps his arms around Dick's shoulders. “No, hey. It's okay. It's okay to be messed up. Just look at me.”

Dick grips the back of his brother's shirt and shakes.

“It is okay for you to be messed up. After all you've been through, you have that right.”

“Jay, you repeat yourself a lot. Somehow it works.” Dick laughs a little and wraps himself more around Jason.

“You're turning me into a sop. I'm actually letting you cry on me. What have you done to my strong defenses?”

“Turned them to mush.” Dick answers.

Jason lets him go and Dick lays down on the couch. Jason gets up and lets him fall asleep, moving to his own room. Dick had learned how to sleep on the couch and never let Jason give him the bed since Deathstroke. Poor kid. He doesn't deserve any of this. Jason knows that he deserves it, but Dick never has. Jason lies awake, waiting for the nightmares to attack Dick as they always do. Jason hardly sleeps on those nights.

And then his terrified wail rises above the sirens of Bludhaven. Jason gets up and moves into the living room. Dick is curled up on the floor and sobbing like Jason has never seen. Jason kneels down next to him and pulls his upper body into he arms, turning him over to do so. His whole body is wracked with shudders and Jason can barely keep a grip on him. Dick wakes up and his arms snap around Jason's back and his grips him as tightly as he can.

“I'm going to call Bruce, okay? This is getting out of hand. I want to help you, but you might need more than just me.”

Jason starts to get up, but Dick tugs his sleeve. “Tim is sick. What if Bruce makes us come home?”

“Then he makes us come home. Dick, you need help. I'm serious. Maybe being home might give you a shove in the right direction.”

“Okay.” Dick grabs Jason's arm and lets him pull him to his feet. Jason and Dick move back towards his room and Jason picks up his phone. They move into the kitchen where Dick can sit down and give himself a moment or two to calm down.

He dials and the phone rings twice. Alfred picks up. “Master Jason, are you all right?”

“Fine Alfred, can I talk to Bruce or is he still out?”

“He arrived about and hour ago. I'll let him know you wish to speak with him.”

Jason waits a few moments and then he can hear the thuds of punches on a training dummy. 'What is it Alfred?'

'Master Jason wishes to speak with you.'

'What for?'

'He didn't tell me. He asked to speak with you, Master Bruce.'

Jason can hear Bruce exhale. “Yeah, Jason.”

Dick sits down at the island and rests his head in his hands. “Br... Dad I have a problem.”

“What's wrong? Are you okay?” he answers.

“Yeah, I'm fine, it's just... It's Dick. He's having a rough go of it. He's not hurt or anything, but he's having nightmares and they're getting worse.”

“And how did you come to know that?”

“He stays with me most nights.”

“He stays with you? Was he planning on staying there tonight?”

“No, we had to come here. His day job got us in trouble and we had to come here.”

“What was going on with his day job?”

“A gang has been trying to get the GCPD's attention for a while and they busted down the door when Gordon was gone. Dick and Ramirez stood up to him and she got stabbed.”

“How was Dick then?”

“Recklessly confident. As usual.”

“So what happens after the nightmares?”

“He wakes up screaming, usually crying too.”

“Bring him home. There won't be much you can do that you haven't already tried.”

Jason chuckles. “How do you know I've tried anything?”

“He's your brother. You take care of him.”

“Take care, B.”

“You too Jason. Get him home safe.”

Jason glances over at Dick, who looks like a kicked puppy. “I will.”

Jason hangs up the phone and moves back over to Dick. “Come on. We're going home. You can get some sleep in the car.”

Dick nods. Jason locks his place up behind him and pulls his keys out of his jacket pocket. Dick gets in Jason's car and they head towards home. Dick nods off about a fourth of the way there and Jason sighs in relief. He needs the sleep.

When they reach the manor, Bruce is waiting for them at the door. Jason gets out of the cars and Bruce moves down to the passenger door.

“He asleep?”

“Yeah.”

Bruce opens his door and Dick is breathing softly. Bruce picks him up out of the car and Jason smiles. Bruce has been a little better about physical contact with Dick since... Huh. Jason can't remember a time when Bruce actually was bad about it. Jason opens the door to the manor so Bruce can get in with Dick and he treads lightly up the stairs. He lays Dick out on his bed and slips a cover over him.

“We'll worry about it when he wakes up.” Bruce says. A hint of worry is in his voice and that makes Jason nervous. “Let's just hope he can get through the rest of the night.”

“Would you stay with him?” Jason asks.

“Yeah... yeah, you get some sleep Jason. You need it too.”

Jason nods. He heads to his own room. He walks in and can smell the fresh sheets on the bed. Jason laughs to himself. Good ol' Alfred. Jason puts on his sweatpants and strips his shirt, falling asleep as he hits the bed.

Bruce shakes him awake the next morning.

“What? Somethin' happen?” Jason asks.

“Yeah, he made it through the night.” Bruce sighs. “He's scared though.”

“Yeah, I know.” Jason puts a clean shirt on (thank goodness Alfred stocked his closet after he called) and follows Bruce to Dick's room. Dick is curled up against the headboard with Damian at his side. Dick looks up as Jason enters.

“Hey, Jaybird.”

Jason chuckles. “Hey Dick.”

The door creaks open a little further and Tim pokes his head in. His nose is red and his eyes are watery and pink-colored.

“Hi.” he sneezes. “Bye.” he darts away, probably for his meds.

“So, who would you like to talk to first Dick?” Bruce asks.

“I'll stick with Damian. You guys can wait a minute or two or seven-dozen.”

Bruce chuckles.

Jason wonders how Damian even knew about Dick's problems. Of course, then again, he was trained in the League to be a master spy and assassin. It's about twenty minutes or so before Damian comes out and tells Bruce he can go in. Bruce comes out looking a little lighter. Jason goes in.

He sits down on the bed and Dick hugs him right off the bat.

“You doing okay, Dick?”

“A little better actually.”

“I don't have anymore to say beside what I can repeat. And it's that you should be careful, and remember who you are on the inside more than this ball you've become. I told you before that you have a strong heart, and that's true. And your fear is changing you. So relax for just a second and remember what it felt like to be yourself.”

Dick sighs. “I think I'll be okay Jay.”

“Good. I need you out there.”

“Yeah, you seem so helpless.” Dick giggles.

“I'm serious Dick. I'd be dead without you.”

“I love you Jay. You help me so much, even when you're angry. And I feel like I'm really gonna be okay. I'm happy to be home.”

“And I'm happy you're here where we can all help you.”

Dick hugs Jason again and Jason grips the back of his shirt. “You'll be okay. I know you. After about a month or so of therapeutic cuddles, you'll be back to normal.

Bruce opens the door. “I, uh, just wanted to let you know that I solved your case. I caught the mob boss and Jason, I need to talk to you.”

“Thanks dad.” Dick smiles and lies back down on his bed. Jason gets up to go with Bruce and he leads Jason down to the cave. When Jason reaches the bottom of the stairs Bruce grabs his right arm. Jason recoils with a hiss and Bruce looks stunned.

“Are you okay?”

“It's just a scratch.”

Bruce frowns. “Let's see it.”

Jason honestly can't believe that Bruce didn't notice the stitches in his arm when he woke him up this morning. Jason pulls up his sleeve so Bruce can see his arm, right where it meets the shoulder. Bruce furrows his brow.

“When did this happen? I thought you said you were fine.” Bruce looks worried.

“Dick and I were working a case of his and we were ambushed. He got me out.”

“You lied.” Bruce frowns.

“I didn't lie. I'm fine.”

“He stitch you up?” Bruce asks.

“Yeah. He has pretty steady hands. Better than mine.” Jason tugs his sleeve back down.

“Yeah, Dick has always been steady. Even when he's scared.” Bruce grabs a bandage to put over Jason's wound and Jason rolls his eyes, tugging his sleeve back up. Bruce is gentle about it.

“So, what did you need?”

“I wanted to ask you how long this has been going on.”

“For a while now.”

“Since?”

“Since his last run-in with Slade. The nightmares before that yet.” Jason shrugs. “He keeps a fairly good lid on it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one isn't so bad, and I'm honestly glad for that. And you know that all the things these boys go through isn't just going to leave them okay, so minor freak-outs would be normal.


	15. Bravery and Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short jaunt through some tunnels. Turns out to be a longer night than they'd hoped.

Damian is trailing someone. He doesn't know exactly who yet, but he's going to figure it out. Jason is with him, and he's not sure either, but Damian thinks he has a hunch. Dick is following the accomplice with Bruce. Tim is finally well enough to be out and about and is tracking the leader. He hasn't been doing much though. Damian stops and puts a hand out to signal Jason.

He listens carefully and he can hear a breathing of a sort. He crouches a little and stays close to the wall. Jason taps his shoulder and points to the far corner. Damian glances that way and he sees a shadow. Two shadows, roughly Jason's size. He moves closer and gestures for Jason to stay back. Damian can hear him snicker, but Bruce put him on lead and he's not about to let Jason ruin that.

One of the figures that made the shadows moves. “Who are you?” He asks.

“Robin.”

“Wh...Who's that?” He lifts a shaky dark hand to point at Jason.

“Red Hood.” Jason waves.

“The Red Hood? I thought you were a bad guy.”

“Depends on the day. I'm in a charitable mood today.”

“You have to get out!” he yells.

“What, Why? We're here to save your bacon apparen.....”

“It's a trap, you guys have to get out! Go, run!” the other guy wakes up with a start.

Jason looks up. “This would be a good place to crush us. There's at least twenty feet of concrete above our heads right now.”

“Which is why you have to go!”

“Where's the bomb?”

“Just get out, there's only 30 seconds left!”

“Why should we believe you?”

The man who just woke up stands. “Because the bomb is attached to me! Get out now, or you will both die! Run!”

Jason sees the red light blinking on the man's vest and grabs Damian, shielding him. “It's too late!” the men sob. “You should have run.”

And then he explodes and the building comes down around them. Jason is lying on top of Damian when the rubble is settled and he seems to be unconscious. Damian presses against him, but finds himself pinned. He slides to the side and gasps in pain. He feels his side and finds a thin slice of concrete in it.

“Red Hood, are you okay?” Damian asks.

He gets no answer.

“Red Hood? Todd? Answer me!”

Damian pulls the piece of concrete out of his side and rolls over. He pushes up with his back and manages to get out from under Jason's heavy body.

Jason is lying under some rubble and Damian pulls it away. The tiny area he has to work with leaves him no space to put the rubble besides under him. Jason doesn't wake up, or react to anything Damian tries, which includes slapping. Damian rubs his face and it's slick with sweat. Jason's helmet had better not be damaged, because it filters his air. Damian puts on his breather that Bruce makes him keep and now he understands why. Except it's damaged.

Damian growls at his terrible luck and pulls it back off. He starts shifting the concrete ever so slightly before he remembers to try his comm.

“Batman? Nightwing? Anyone copy?” Damian wheezes.

“Nigh.... Wh... ….re....u? D......ou....ed....me?” It's Dick's voice, but his words are nearly impossible to make out. And then he hears a second explosion.

Just then Jason groans. “Todd?”

Jason doesn't move, but at least he's still alive. Damian moves closer to him and pulls his helmet release, just so he can check for damage to his head and to the helmet. There's a small wound above his eye where his head cracked against the heavy armor, but other than that he seems okay. At least if he's unconscious he uses less air.

Damian waits a half-hour for Jason to show signs of consciousness. Damian meditates for most of it to slow his heart rate and breathing to an almost non-existent level. He's fallen into a semi-coma by the time Jason wakes up. Jason immediately checks his pulse, Damian can feel his fingers on his throat and opens his eyes.

“I'm okay, Todd.”

He huffs a breath of relief. “Just don't slow yourself too much. We still need to get out of here.”

“I was conserving air so that you might not die so quickly.” Damian growls.

Jason resists the urge to shout back. “You try to reach the others?”

“Of course.” Damian sniffs. “I'm not incompetent.”

Jason chuckles. “Never said you were.” he takes a breath. “I have any bad head wounds? My helmet isn't on, so I assumed you checked.”

“Cut above your eye. Your helmet's filter is working properly.”

Jason nods. He lies down in the rubble and breathes deeply. Damian watches him carefully. At first, Jason was his arch nemesis, then he saved Dick multiple times. That gained him some points. Then he fought off Deathstroke multiple times to keep him safe, and got him back. And saved him from an infection. Then he saved Damian too.

Damian didn't really know how he felt, but he knew that Jason was worthy of his respect. As was Bruce. Bruce had always deserved it in a way, though he had never gotten it until Damian had stayed with the monks. Much as Damian was loathe to admit it, he had been wrong. Damian monitors Jason's breathing and it suddenly hitches and Jason jolts awake with a coughing fit that could choke Bruce.

Damian leans forwards to help but Jason waves him away. Damian wonders if his helmet would help at this point. He inhales deeply and the air is slightly sour.

“We're running out of oxygen. We'll have four, maybe five hours left before we run out. If we use as little as possible.”

“Meditation will slow your breathing.” Damian suggests.

Jason nods and settles into a good position. In no time, both Jason and Damian are barely breathing. Their hearts are beating slow but steady. A couple of hours pass by and Jason is roused from his mini-coma by the sound of rustling debris.

Voices. “Jason! Damian!”

“Dick!” Jason mumbles, still half-asleep. He's hallucinating, that much he knows, but his mind wants help so badly.

His mind clears.

Jason freezes as the sound of rock sliding against itself is heard. Jason hurls himself over Damian who is still asleep and the little space crashes down around him. He screams as something tears into his shoulder and he shelters Damian further with his own body.

…....

Dick tumbles back from the now crashing debris and Bruce holds onto him. “Dick, they'll be okay.”

Bruce takes Dick by his arm and leads the way through all the small crevices that will fit, carefully moving pieces where needed. Dick sees the worn brown leather jacket buried under pieces of cement and he slips through everything to reach it. He uncovers him and finds Jason bleeding. His helmet is off to the side, only minor scratching to the paint. Dick pulls Jason up and gasps.

Under Jason's unmoving body lies a small and nearly unharmed Damian Wayne. Dick feels for Jason's pulse and nearly cries thinking he doesn't have one when a small thud against his fingertips gives him hope. He holds his fingers in place, hoping for another beat. Another small thud. Dick pulls Jason further away and Bruce grabs Damian.

Dick knows in some small portion of his mind that he's dreaming, but he can't help but feel the fear.

Dick pulls Jason back out of the rubble and he lies there on the ground.

“Is he alive?”

“Yeah.”

Bruce feels his skin. “He's freezing. So is Damian.”

“We need to get them home.”

“What we need to do is get this piece of rock out of Jason's stomach.”

“I'm going to get him a blanket.” Dick runs back to the Bat-mobile's secret compartment of goodies. He grabs two thermal blankets and rushes back to Bruce.

“Dick, hurry up! Jason's conscious!”

Dick picks up his pace and kneels next to Jason. He coughs. “Is D... Damian all right?”

“He's fine. He's right next to you.” Dick mumbles to him.

Jason gestures for Dick to come closer and he leans in. Jason gets an arm up around his shoulders and pulls him down for a hug. Dick returns it just as Jason loses his last shred of consciousness. Dick sobs. He can feel Jason's heart beating feebly against his chest. He's barely alive. Barely.

Damian groans and sits up. “Todd?” he questions. He sees Grayson holding Jason's limp body close and crying and raises a brow.

“Father, I don't understand. Is Grayson being over dramatic?”

Bruce nods. “His vitals are all strengthening.”

Dick's head pounds and he stumbles.

He wakes up, panting hard. His mind clears and one thought occurs to him. “Bruce.” Dick tries to move and cries out as his leg is held firm by a piece of debris. He can feel the blood dripping away from the gash on his leg.

“Bruce!” Dick calls out again.

He struggles to move and finds his left arm completely pinned and both of his legs. The mounds of cement above him move and another boulder falls over his pile. Thankfully it didn't fall on his face. He holds back a scream as the pressure on his leg is momentarily heightened. Dick gets him left arm free and heaves a breath, exhausted. The air is already turning bad and Dick is bleeding. If he doesn't get help, he'll die.

“Bruce!” Dick calls out.

“Nightwing! Where are you?”

“I'm stuck, and I can't get loose.”

“Are you hurt?” Bruce calls back.

A wave of pain rolls over him and all he can do is nod, even though Bruce can't see him.

“I'll take that as a yes. Just give me a minute.” Dick can hear him rustling around and Dick's heart pounds in his chest. Pieces of rock and cement grind against each other as Bruce picks his way towards him.

“Dick, talk to me.”

“I'm, I'm over here!” he wheezes. “Bruce, do you think Jason and Damian made it out?” Dick mumbles. He's getting tired.

“Dick, put on your breather!” Bruce shouts.

Dick's sluggish fingers fumble for it and he slips it on. It still works. “Do you think they made it?” Dick mumbles again.

“No.” Bruce answers. “They didn't make it out.”

Dick can't fight his tears. He's hurting and Bruce is having a hard time getting to him. Tim could be anywhere and Bruce doesn't think that Jason and Damian made it out of the tunnels. The rubble over his legs shifts enough to make him cry out and he does.

“Just hold on Dick!” Bruce shouts.

Dick nods, seeing Bruce's looming shadow above the rocks. Bruce moves the pieces as fast as he can, uncovering his legs. His right leg is soon free and then his left. Dick turns over and pushes himself up onto his knees. His left leg is still bleeding slowly and Bruce helps him out of his little hole.

They push through the rocks together and head for the Batmobile. Dick gets too sleepy to go any farther and Bruce has him up on his back, using his arms and legs to hold on. With Dick's shallow breaths on his neck pushing him on, he reaches the end of the blast zone and sets Dick down. Bruce looks up again and his mind was playing tricks on him. There's still further to go.

Dick groans as Bruce hefts him back up. Bruce can tell it won't be long before Dick passes out, but as long as he can hold on Bruce will let him. He needs his arms to get them out faster. Dick rides quietly on his back, his injury making him tired and the lack of oxygen shutting down his system. Bruce's breather was intact and he has it on now, and Dick's is still functioning, but there's not much it can do to replace oxygen, only make the air there is clearer for them to breathe.

Bruce moves Dick's leg, as to not clip it and Dick's breaths stutter. Least he's still lucid enough to register pain. Bruce checks the location of the Batmobile and it's only another hundred yards away. Bruce knows they can make it.

…...Jason

His arm hurts. His back hurts too, though the leather protected him, plus three layers of armor. He can feel Damian breathing lightly beneath him and sighs in relief. He pushes against the rocks and they barely move and he tries again, throwing his weight into it. His heart hammers in his chest at the thought he might not be strong enough to save Damian. He gets the slab pushed to the side enough to get Damian out. He's exhausted and sweaty and he lets the rock settle back on top of him with Damian safely out of the way.

Damian's moan brings him back to semi-consciousness and Jason blinks under his helmet. Jason drops his head, tired. Damian sees and pulls his helmet off to get to his face.

“Todd, listen to me! We have to get out of here, and I can't do it without your help.”

Jason heaves a breath and closes his eyes for just a moment. He's slapped for his lack of effort. Jason snaps back to consciousness and nearly bites Damian's hand off as he comes in for another hit. Damian starts to push against the rock and Jason pushes too, and together they get him out. Damian coughs and Jason checks his shoulder wound and Damian's wound too. Jason puts his helmet back on.

“I'm fine, Todd.” He growls.

“You're bleeding, that doesn't count as fine.” Jason secures Damian's wound with makeshift medical supplies from his jacket and gets him moving. They push through the rocks and small crevices. The air is stale now, and their breaths are shallow. Damian tumbles down to the ground and Jason is by his side in a second.

“Damian!” he exclaims. “Dang it, brat! Wake up!”

Damian doesn't answer. Jason takes off his helmet and puts it on Damian. He picks him up and moves as quickly as he can through the wrecked tunnel.

…....Bruce

Almost there. Dick just needs to hang on a little bit longer. Bruce squeezes his bad leg to get his adrenaline pumping faster again. Dick's breathing hitches.

“Bruce....” he mumbles. “That hurts.”

“I know it does, but you have to stay awake. We're almost there, I promise you.” Bruce moves another piece of fallen debris.

“I'm cold.” He rubs his hand up his arm for a second.

Bruce shushes him. “You're going to be fine, Dick.”

Dick nods against his back and grips a little tighter around him. Bruce mentally reassures himself that he will be okay. He has to be. And then he can see the morning light.

“Dick.”

He doesn't react and Bruce heads out of the tunnel to get Dick help. He rushes to the Batmobile and starts it, turning up the heat and grabbing the medical kit. He disinfects, stitches, and wraps Dick leg in a hurry. Dick moans and coughs.

“There you are.” Bruce nods.

“M' right here, dad.”

Bruce flips up his display and heads to Jason's location as fast as he can push it. He finds the tunnel entrance and speeds right up to the edge of the rubble. He calls out into the destruction.

“Hood!”

….... Jason

The kid has been passed out on his shoulder ever since he went down and he's almost to the edge when he hears a voice. It's Bruce's voice. Jason moves faster, breathing ragged as the air is sour in his lungs. His head is getting cloudy, but he pushes on, towards Bruce. Jason stumbles a little, but rights himself. He coughs.

“Hood!” the voice calls again.

Jason looks up and can see Bruce through what's left of the debris. He takes a deep breath of air and picks his way over to him. Bruce catches him as he stumbles again and takes Damian from his arm.

“You're freezing, come on. Dick's waiting for you.”

“Tim, we have to find Tim.”

“I'll find Tim. You guys have to stay put.”

Bruce gets both Damian and Jason into the Batmobile with Dick. Dick wakes up as he gets the helmet off Damian who immediately wakes up with the intake of fresh air.

“Father!” he lurches forwards and latches onto Bruce.

Jason groans and his head lolls to the side. Dick turns over in his seat to get a good look at him. “Jay! Jason!” he shakes him. “Jason, wake up!”

“Dick, he'll be all right. He just has more bad air in him than we do. Give him a little time to recover.”

Dick nods and takes a deep breath. Who knew that it was possible to get high on fresh air. And in Gotham it's not even all that fresh. Damian checks on Jason periodically, the man did save his life after all. Dick falls asleep up front as Bruce searches every way he knows how for Tim.

Damian has a funny feeling in his chest that he is pushing himself to believe is from his previous lack of oxygen. But he can tell that it's worry, guilt. Jason was trying to protect him. Trying hard enough to get himself killed. Damian couldn't help but looking over at Jason repeatedly.

Jason groans as Damian pulls the fabric away from his shoulder and begins to dress his wound. He opens his eyes when Damian pauses.

“What's wrong, Spawn?”

“You risked your life for me. I would wish to know why.” Damian continues.

He's glad that Bruce takes that moment to hop out of the Batmobile and chase down a lead, and that Dick is still out like a light.

Jason chuckles and slides himself into a better upright position in his seat. “Damian, I may not act like I have a care in the world, but you, Bruce, Alfred, and Dick? You're the only family that I have ever really known. I can't help but feel protective of you guys.

“Tt, you didn't mention Tim.”

Jason shrugs. “Him not so much. He gets to be around because he kept Bruce from going insane.”

Damian furrows his brow, considering what Jason said. “So, should we save him?”

Jason sighs. “Yes, yes of course we should save him. Because Bruce would kill us if we didn't.”

Damian frowns. “Father does not kill.”

Jason laughs. “I know, kiddo. I know.” He pulls Damian closer and passes back out. Damian listens to his heartbeat through his armor and leather. He's not lying or trying to pull anything over on him. Damian decides something in that moment. He'd do anything for Bruce and Dick. And Jason is now going to be added to that list. Damian just lies on Jason's chest and listens, and feels. His heart stutters for just a moment and Jason coughs. He wakes up Dick and Damian tries to help him.

“Todd, you can't die now after what just happened!”

Jason waves a hand. “I'm.... I'm all right.” He heaves a breath and looks up at the roof of the car. “Just give me a few minutes.”

Dick looks back at him, concerned. “You okay, Jay?”

Jason nods.

“Damian?” Dick asks.

“I'm fine, Richard.” Damian nods.

Dick reaches a hand back and is surprised when his hand is taken, by none other than Jason. A smaller hand lands on top of his and Dick smiles. His blue eyes are full of warmth and joy. For one horrible moment is Jason's life, he wished that back when it could have changed something, Dick's personality would have rubbed off on him, but that was a fleeting thought.

Damian looks him over. “Grayson, why are his eyes so dark?”

“Huh? Oh, Dami, we don't ask that question.”

“No, no, it's okay. It's because I was dead.”

“Oh.” Damian falls asleep around the same time as Jason, and Dick shortly after, bored of watching them. Bruce returns with Tim about another hour later and he doesn't look too bad aside from a few bruises and scrapes.

“What happened?” Damian is the first up.

“The boss knew that Tim was following him. Someone sold us out tonight, told him we were onto him.” Bruce growls. “Tim was just about to be overcome when I found him.”

“Was not.” Tim growls. “Bruce is making it sound worse than it was.”

“Probably. I know that when I'm about to get beaten I look a whole lot worse than that already.” Jason wheezes.

Tim frowns. “Is Jason okay?”

“He's a little worse for wear, but he'll be fine.” Bruce jumps in the front and Tim runs off to find his bike. Jason huffs and Damian glances at him.

Jason looks over. “You need something?”

Damian shakes his head and leans over, using Jason as a makeshift pillow. Jason doesn't pull away, so Damian takes that as a good sign that he's welcome. His whole body aches, and for the first time in Damian's life, he almost wishes for painkillers.

Bruce takes off towards home, careful not to shake them up too badly. Jason seems okay, even though Damian is resting on his injured shoulder. When they reach the manor, Bruce is almost sorry to wake them up, but he has to take care of them.

“Come on, Dick.” he nudges his arm.

Dick opens one eye, just a crack. “We home?”

“Yeah, I need you to help me get Jason and Damian inside.”

Dick sighs and nods. “Okay.” He moves around to Damian's side of the car and hoists him up. He sprawls in Dick's arms, as if searching for the mass that he was touching. Dick snickers. Damian loves physical presence just as much as him. He just doesn't like to show it.

Bruce picks Jason up and he moans. Bruce nudges the door open that he had called ahead to Alfred to leave open. Dick follows him in, a lightly snoring Damian in his arms. Bruce takes Jason to his room and Dick has to wait for Bruce to come back and open the door. Bruce helps him get Damian settled, but before they get out the door, Damian is awake.

“Why didn't you wake me?” he asks.

“Because you were asleep, and you need it.” Bruce answers.

Damian sniffs and leans back onto his bed. “Very well.”

Dick and Bruce head to their rooms and fall asleep as soon as they hit their mattresses. Dick is up first, besides Alfred that next morning, and goes to check on Jason and the weirdest sight greets him. Damian is on his bed already, feeding Jason soup. Jason looks up and waves, holding his bowl in one hand. He pulls his spoon away from Damian, who was about to steal some of the wonderful broth. Damian looks rather pleased for just having been robbed of his opportunity. Dick sits down on the bed, right on top of a lump.

A yelp sounds from underneath him. “Dick, get off me!” Tim.

“You guys all having a little get-together without me?”

Jason waves his spoon after taking another bite of his soup. “Feel free to join, Dick. Everyone else is already in here.”

Tim wrestles his way out from under Jason's covers and gets Dick down to the floor.

Tim growls. “You're letting me win, Dick.”

“You've been sick, what can I say? I'm just tryin' to take good care of you Timmy.”

Dick pulls a simple move and pins Tim to the floor, then getting up and sitting on the bed right next to Jason. Tim sighs and then sits at the foot of the bed where he was previously. Jason downs the rest of his soup and then promptly falls asleep. Like, literally passed out. Dick stays with him while Tim and Damian go down to the cave to train. Tim knows he's far outmatched by Damian, but he always gives it a good go.

Dick sighs and gets Jason laid out flat on his bed and covers him up. Dick lies down next to him in case he needs anything and falls asleep himself. When he opens his eyes, he's back under the rubble and he can feel that there's no one there to help him. No one can hear him scream, but he does anyway.

…... Jason

 _What's moving around so much in my bed?_ Jason opens his eyes. He turns his head to find Dick thrashing on top of his covers.

He grabs his shoulder. “Dick!” Jason sits on top of him to keep him from moving and grabs his arms. “Dick, wake up! It's just a nightmare!”

Dick tries to move but when he finds that he can't, he chokes out a sob and tears start running down his face.

“Dick!” Jason huffs. “Wake up!”

He struggles hard enough to almost break Jason's hold on him, but Jason has the benefit of being conscious. His head begins to throb and his lungs burn. Jason coughs and that seems to snap Dick out of whatever is going on. Jason's vision blurs and he topples off the side, back where he was lying before.

“Dick, you better be awake, cuz I have got me a killer headache.”

Dick doesn't answer, he just wraps around Jason and sobs into his dusty costume. Dick hadn't even changed out of his, and so the tears in it were painfully obvious. His leg was bandaged, though it looked like it could stand to be changed. The arms had tears and snags all over. There was a hole in the back. Jason knew for a fact there was a hole in the back of his outfit too because of the piece of rock that went clear through his shoulder.

Jason shushes him and speaks to him more softly than he's ever spoken to anyone. His brother needs him, and it's worth it. “Hey, what's wrong? You're right here with me. You're in the manor.”

Dick looks at him. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Thanks Jay.”

“No problem.”

Dick drifts off again. “Love you.”

Jason doesn't know what to say. He stammers for a little bit before reminding himself Dick isn't awake to hear it. And thank goodness for that.

 


	16. Here, have some Fluff.

Damian in on his bed to his bed, openning up a book. He hears his door open and glances over, seeing Jason.

He approaches the bed slowly, as if unsure if he's welcome.

“Hurry it up Todd. I don't have all day.”

Jason chuckles and runs a hand over his hair, his streak moving back and forth. “Thank you, Damian.”

Damian closes his book and stands up. He moves closer to Jason and wraps his arms around his waist. Jason crouches so he can reach and wraps his arms around Damian as well.

“Todd?”

“Hmm?”

“If you ever mention this to Dick, I will stab your eyes out.”

With that cheery note, he pulls himself around Jason a little more. Jason's body rumbles with a chuckle and he pushes a hand up to Damian's hair.

“What's this for?”

“I find that physical affection is more gratifying when both parties are equally open to it.”

“And so the first person you peg for it is me?”

“I've also learned that you enjoy it more than you let on.”

Jason nods and sighs. “You know, Damian, if Bruce ever makes you extremely angry, you have a place with the Outlaws. Roy might even be happy to have you.”

“Kori might not be as pleased.”

“Kori likes you, she was just a little doubtful you'd fit in.”

“And now look at me. I'm actually hugging the Red Hood, and my mother would not be pleased.”

Jason laughs. “Your mother isn't pleased with a lot of things. Especially me.”

Damian pulls back. “Because you went back to Bruce.”

“Because I went back to Bruce. I'd been with him for so long, and I couldn't stay away.”

“And Dick wouldn't let you.”

Damian lets him go and Jason stands up. “Come on, Damian. It's time to patrol.”

“It's not even four in the afternoon.”

“Exactly.”

Damian considers it and then smiles. “Sure, Todd. Let's go patrol.”

So Jason takes him out to the street, Crime Alley to be specific. They took his motorcycle to get there and Damian grins as he jumps off.

“If I had known that you drove like that, I would have started riding with you a long time ago.”

Jason chuckles. He takes a step into Crime Alley, and shadows engulf him almost immediately. It's not night, but the alley itself seems to swallow up any light. Damian steps closer, cautious.

“Hood?” Damian calls.

“Step into the shadows and join me, Damian.”

Damian puts a foot into the dark and a hand grabs his shoulder.

“Let me guide you when you can't see the light at the end of the tunnel. I sure as heck didn't, and I made it.”

Damian taps his hand away. “I don't need your eyes, I have my own.”

“Trust me, Robin. There's more out here than just the shadows.”

Another voice startles Damian. “Like us.”

“Roy, be careful.”

“Aw, don't worry Red. I'm sure the kid doesn't bite.”

Jason laughs. “You wouldn't think so. But go ahead and try him.”

Jason's hand leaves his shoulder and Damian pushes himself against the wall, crouching. “Hood, what's going on?”

“Just hold on Rob, this alley is about to get brighter.”

And that's when Robin gasps in surprise as Starfire flies in. The alley brightens considerably and she lands.

“Hi, Damian. Did you miss me?”

“Starfire.”

“Please, I'm an Outlaw. Call me Kori.”

“Kori. What are you doing here? I thought you were still with the Titans.”

“I was, until Raven disappeared. She sent a message saying that she found a good home somewhere. I do not know what she meant, but I hope she's okay.”

“So you came to Jason?”

“Jason came to us.” Roy speaks up again. “We were loners, temporary allies in the street and Jason stumbled upon us and we became the Outlaws.”

“Todd, what is this?”

“This is a job offer.” He answers.

“You bristle under Bruce's command, you hate taking orders, but you can because it's necessary.” Jason takes off his helmet. “I know what that's like.”

“I think I'll pass.” Damian waves a hand and turns out of the alley, as if to leave.

“It's justice, Damian. That's what we fight for.”

“You kill, I don't. I want to honor my father.”

“By ignoring what you really want?” Roy asks.

“And what's that?”

Kori steps forwards. “Freedom. Freedom from Batman, from ties that hold you back. From Thalia.”

Damian takes another step back. “How do you know about her?”

Jason puts his hand back on Damian's shoulder and turn him to face him. “Damian, we're taking off.”

“Just leaving? You can't shirk your responsibilities, Todd. Who will watch your territory?”

“I got Dick to agree to it, that is if you come with. If you don't, I asked Bruce to let you handle it.”

Damian glances at the other two, then back to Jason. “May I speak to you, in private?”

Jason sighs. “Yeah.”

Roy puts his hands up. “I can see where this is going. We'll catch ya' later Jason.”

Kori and Roy leave the alley and Damian suddenly hugs Jason around the waist. “You can't go.”

“Damian. I have to get out of Gotham for a while. I'm sorry.” He hugs Damian back.

“Todd, you don't know what it's going to do to everyone. It's going to destroy Grayson. Father will most likely close himself off from everyone except in the aspect of Robin. Tim won't really miss you. Alfred will be heartbroken. You can't go.”

“Damian. I have to.”

“Please.” Damian presses his face into Jason's stomach and his shoulders begin to shake. “We'll fall apart. Don't go.”

Jason hates this. He _wants_ to leave. Doesn't he? Then why is he having such a hard time saying no?

“Okay, kiddo.”

…..... Jason and Damian return to the manor.

Damian enters first and sees Dick with a hopeful look on his face. He had hoped that Damian would convince him not to go. As soon as Jason had asked him to take over his territory, he knew what Jason was doing.

Damian walks slowly in and then the door opens a little wider as Jason steps in as well. Dick approaches Jason and he wraps his arms around his shoulders. “Tell me you're not going, Jay-bird.”

“I'm not going anywhere, Dick. Can't leave Tim and the runt alone. They'd kill each other.”

Jason has his helmet under one arm and he tosses it to Damian around Dick's back.

“Jason, I can't believe that after all we've been through, you want to leave us.” Dick grips the back of his leather jacket in his hands.

Jason is silent for a moment. “I thought I did. I was going to, but I guess I just wasn't thinking.”

Dick lets him go and turns back to Damian and hugs him.

“Grayson, let me go this instant!” Damian struggles against him.

“Thanks Damian.”

 


	17. Kidnapped

Jason wakes up, his thoughts muddled and sluggish. His head pounds and Jason puts a hand up to his eye. He sits up with a groan. He opens his eyes but still can't see. It's pitch black. Something whirs close by and he listens. The turning of a camera. A door opens and light floods into his eyes, blinding him for a few moments. He squints into the light and sees a man. He comes closer to Jason and Jason tries to scoot away. His progress is stopped my a metal clink.

Jason struggles against the chain that's holding him back by his arms. The man gets within reach and Jason kicks at him. The man catches his legs and holds them down with one of his own at the knees. Jason spits in his face as he tilts his head back to look at Jason's own. Jason gasps as his cheek flares with pain. The man slapped him. Jason looks back up at him and the man pulls out a light.

“Open your mouth, and if you bite me, you'll wish we had never taken you.”

Jason opens his mouth and when the man looks in to see his teeth, Jason bites down hard. “Not likely.” Jason smiles, his teeth bloody.

The man screams and then backhands Jason so hard that his vision blacks out for a few moments. Jason shakes his head a couple of times and when his vision returns he sees two men dragging the first guy away. They get him out of the room and then come back in. One restrains Jason while the other puts something around his mouth and nose. A muzzle. Jason laughs, even as the man latches it around the back of his head.

“ _You're_ gonna wish you had never taken me.” Jason continues to laugh.

The next couple of days pass by with no food or water and Jason doesn't mind because that's not the worst he's been through. He still does the same thing back at home. He sleeps through most of the third and fourth days. The fifth was a total black out- didn't even wake up from the fourth. On the sixth, they take the muzzle off to feed him. He doesn't eat much of what they bring him though. The first man never comes back in the room, but when they open the doors to come and go, Jason sees him walking by.

How many others are there?

On the seventh they bring him water and he drinks a little of that too. With his arms pinned behind him, they get to help and Jason mentally grins.

On the eighth day, Jason wonders what Bruce is thinking. _Did he think that I ran away, or left? Did Dick think I left them all alone?_ He sleeps through most of the next two days and then it starts over. By the eleventh day, he's starting to feel the effects of food and water deprivation. They come in with food, but he still can't find much of a desire to eat even though he knows he's hungry.

By the twelfth, he wonders what's going on back on Crime Alley, and Bludhaven. He's been gone almost two weeks and Jason supposes he's taking it rather well. The doors open up again and Jason sits up. They wrestle him up from the ground and then unchain his wrists. They cuff them up front and half drag him along. Jason stumbles a lot, having not walked in a while. The lighting in the hallway they pull him through is aggravating his eyes and so he looks at the floor, counting his steps and calculating the degree of each turn.

A door opens and suddenly the light is too intense for him and he has to slam his eyes shut. He takes a deep breath. He's outside. A breeze blows his hair to the side, gross as it is. They should be giving him a long hot shower, because Jason only knows how bad he smells. Jason opens his eyes and looks out across the landscape.

Crap.

“We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto.” Jason mutters.

Not even close. Russian countryside more like. Jason looks around for an escape while the men discuss what to do with him. They most likely think he's out of ears reach, but he's not.

'This was not what we discussed. He's too old. He'll be a problem for us. And in case you hadn't noticed his size, he'll be wrestling his way back to where he came from.'

'He's tired, and has little strength after nearly two weeks. Even when we brought him food, he barely ate any of it.'

'I don't like it. Bringing him is a mistake.'

Jason stops listening as he sees an out. He glances over at the men and they've turned away, his two guards are both stationed towards them. Jason waits a little longer for their gaze to turn completely on the arguing men and then he runs for it. The men take a good four minutes or so to realize that he's gone and Jason has a massive head start. If they realize he's run, they have a car and will most likely run him down.

He can hear the screams of rage and finds a place to take shelter. All he has is his normal street clothes. Shirt, cargo pants, shoes, and his wig. He has to wear a wig so people won't figure out he's the Red Hood. That streak is pretty cool at times, but not when you have to wear a wig to be out in public. He's just lucky it stayed on through everything.

He nearly dives into a small ravine to take cover. Their vehicle roars by and Jason keeps himself ducked down as far as possible. His sprint wore him out and he ends up sleeping in the little ravine. When he wakes up, it's raining. He growls at the sky. He was cold enough to begin with, but then he supposes that it is Russia and could be worse. It could be snowing. He pops his head up over the side of his hidey-hole and looks around.

He can see a town. It's not far from him, maybe two miles. He collects himself and starts walking. He's wishing he had his leather jacket. Sadly, it was one of those times when he was out and about in his borrowed hoodie. He finds a tree, surprisingly healthy, and climbs it. When he reaches the top, he's panting, but at least he's hidden. He hears something. His eyes widen and he grabs his boot, pulling open the little trap door and shoving his mic in his ear.

He can hear Dick jabbering at someone, worried, his tone clipped. “Dick.”

“Jason, oh my gosh, you're alive! Where are you?”

“Everyone thinks I'm dead?” Jason squeezes his eyes shut, hunger pangs hitting him suddenly.

“Don't worry, your crime-lording is safe. We called Dig as soon as we discovered you were missing. Where are you?”

“I think I'm in Russia.”

There's a moment of silence. And then Dick explodes. “What?! You _think_ you're in Russia? You don't know?”

Jason growls at him. “It's not like I have a GPS in my back pocket!”

He hears a snarl on Dick's side and realizes Damian must be with him. Suddenly Damian is shouting profanities at him in Arabic. Most of it swearing.

“You stupid oaf! We turn our backs for three seconds and you get kidnapped right off the street?”

Jason's head starts to swim, whatever drug it is in his system clawing its way back up. “Stop.” he croaks. “Please, stop yelling.”

Damian comes to a stunned halt. “Todd. What are you not telling us?”

Jason feels nauseous and resists the urge to throw up. “I was drugged....” he inhales.

“And....” Damian coaxes.

“It seems to have lasting effects.” Jason can't hold back anymore and he leans over and hurls. There's not much in his stomach to come up, so it doesn't last long, but his head hurts.

Damian waits patiently for him to keep talking again. Jason pants heavily, his eye-line seeming to move. He realizes the drug was what probably took away his appetite. Made sure he stayed hungry, weak.

“Dick, I need to talk to Dick.” Jason grumbles.

There's a pause. “What is it, Jay-bird?”

“Are you absolutely positive that there's no way to track your link?”

“Not without it becoming an open channel for anyone to listen in. That's the way I made it to work. It's a warning for us to shut up when we can hear radio waves, but so far no one knows that we can communicate through this channel who would bother to try.”

“I'll find a way to let you know where I am then.”

“Good luck, Jay.” Dick closes his line and Jason hides his comm back in his boot.

Jason can't see the sun anymore and settles down to sleep.

He wakes to the crunching of leaves and howling. Jason jumps down from his tree and nearly collapses, vertigo making him dizzy. Jason gets his bearings and sprints for the town. He risks a glance behind him and sees four dogs hot on his heels. He powers forwards and sees a river, too wide to jump, too fast to run. He'll have to swim. He dives into the river and powers through. He gets washed over and comes back up coughing.

Jason struggles to reach the other side, which is a lot further than he'd anticipated. His lungs burn, same with his muscles. Suddenly he feels ground beneath him and he pushes himself to the bank. He picks up running on the other side and sees the town a short distance away. Not even a mile left.

His heart hammers in his chest as he hears a gunshot. More follow it, but he can't just lay down. He has to keep moving. Jason is so close when a really lucky shot clips his side. He winces and keeps running. Jason is thrilled that the dogs wouldn't jump into the river after him. More shots rain down around him and smash the ground by his feet.

If he wasn't trained by Batman, the shot to his shoulder would have taken him down, but he doesn't give any indication of being hit and keeps sprinting. He's in the town and before he knows it, Jason is running through the alleys to find a safe one. His adrenaline fades quickly as he crashes. Jason sits in the alley and pulls his dark shirt away from his shoulder. He rips up his shirt and wraps it up as much as he can, moving to his side.

His shoulder was thankfully a through-and-through, so no bullet was in him. He tilts his head against the alley wall and groans. He can't afford to stop completely so he gets up and moves, peering into houses, which honestly was creepy even for him, looking for a phone. He sees no one and quietly breaks in, pleasantly seeing no one to surprise him. He grabs the cell and dials Dick's number.

His hand is leaving bloody fingerprints on the phone case.

It takes three rings before he picks up. “Um, hello?”

Jason says hi awkwardly, forgetting for a moment that Dick doesn't know this number.

“Who is this?” Dick asks.

“Crap, it's me, Dick. It's Jay.” He puts a hand up in his hair and pulls, frustration gnawing at him.

“Jay? How in the heck did you find a phone?” Dick doesn't seem convinced.

Jason can't really blame him. It's a caller ID from Russia, and his brother was kidnapped so it could be them messing with Dick.

“Dickie-bird, listen to me! It is me calling you, and I got away. Please, you have to believe me!”

“I really don't. Who is this?” Dick asks suspiciously.

“Pure and perfect Dick Grayson!” Jason spits. “What happened to you never giving up on me?”

It was mean, but it was probably one of the only ways to prove his identity.

“Jay!” Dick shouts, nearly blasting Jason's ear off. “Crap, crap! Hold on, let me trace this call.”

Jason rests his head in the palm of his hand, suddenly dizzy again. His head starts pounding and he inhales sharply.

“Jason, you still there?”

Jason strains out a 'mm-hmm' and stumbles

“Jason! What's happening.”

“Side effects of whatever is in me.” He goes to the floor this time and catches himself on one arm, still holding the phone in the other.

Dick starts to talk again, blabbering about being almost done with the trace. “Don't hang up.”

“Wasn't planning.... on it.” Jason collapses, curling up in a ball, his hand still holding the phone.

He passes out just as the door to the house swings open.

….. Mr. Clements

He and his family were coming home from dinner. His wife, Claire, son Brett, and daughter Ashley, had been having the time of their lives. When they had parked in front of their house, Mr. Clements had seen the blood on the door, and that it was slightly ajar.

“Stay here.”

Jared had gotten out of the car and crept towards the house. He opened the door up to his living room and saw something unexpected. It was a kid, covered in blood that looked like his own. He knelt down next to him and heard worried shouting over the receiver.

“Jay, answer me! Please, are you still there?”

Jared answers him. “Who is this?”

The man answers back. “Where's Jason, what happened?”

“It looks like he passed out.” Jared rolls him onto his back.

“Does he look okay?”

“He's bleeding and sweaty. Why is he here? Why is he in my house? More importantly, who in the heck is he?”

“He's Jason Wayne, and he's been kidnapped. He's been on the run since he escaped and he, very reluctantly, broke into your house to use your phone. We can't trace a land-line, so he needed a cell phone.”

Jared pauses. “I though that Jason Wayne was dead.”

“OH, gosh! I'm so stupid. Please don't tell anyone, but he's not dead, and you can't call a hospital either, because they'll be looking for him.”

“Who is they?”

“The people who kidnapped him! Just please, keep him safe. I'm coming to get him now.”

Jared doesn't even know why he agrees, but he does. “Okay. I give you my word that I won't say anything. I'll see what I can do to help him.”

He calls in his family to help him and there's fighting as to what should be done.

“Jared, he broke into our house! We can't keep him here.”

“He broke in to call home! I promised the man he called. I can't just go back on my word now!”

Jason groans. “What's with all the shouting?” he opens his eyes and sees all the people now around him. He scrambles back to the far wall. “Who are you people?”

Jared straightens. “We're the family whose house you broke into.”

“And you didn't call the cops?” Jason pants, holding his side as it stitches up.

“Not yet.” Jared's wife comments.

Jared levels her with a look, then turns back to Jason. He approaches with caution. “Look, I know who you are, and you need to get out of here. Your friend explained and he's coming to get you. I promised him I would keep you safe until then.” he turns back. “That means no cops.”

He kneels next to Jason and pulls at his make-shift wrap. Jason winces and tries to pull away.

“Easy.” Jared soothes.

He pulls the fabric off and tells his wife to grab the first aid kit. She does so, which is strange because she didn't seem to want to help before.

Jared is careful as he unwraps everything. What's left of the kid's clothes are soaked through. He's shivering a little.

“Brett, go find some clothes.”

Brett doesn't hesitate. He rushes up the stairs to the second floor to rifle through his closet.

It's painfully obvious that he's malnourished and sleep deprived. Or if he did sleep it wasn't very well. He's in amazing shape, but too skinny for his size to be healthy.

“How old are you, kid?”

“21.”

Jared nods, a bit surprised that he didn't mind being called kid. His wife comes back with the first aid and Jared starts to stitch him up, sterilizing everything. He wraps his wounds and then lets Brett give him the clothes.

Luckily, Brett was about the same size. Brett could stand to get out more, and was pretty lanky, while this kid was probably pretty heavily built when he was healthy. It would do.

….... Jason

They let Jason have a few moments to himself in the bathroom to get changed. He's a little reluctant to lose the cargo pants, but the jeans are okay. He slips on the long sleeved under-armor with a moment of gratitude towards Brett. He washes his hands, the sink water turning a little pink, and washes off his right arm. Jason rinses his face and hair and dries it with a small towel.

When he walks out of the bathroom, he feels almost human. The family is sitting in the living room, looking for all the world like he wasn't just bleeding on their floor. The wife looks up and smiles tenderly, which freaks him out a little, but he smiles. Jason scratches the back of his neck.

“I don't suppose I could find a way to dry these?” he holds up his cargo pants.

The wife nods and gets up, taking them from his hand. Jared glances up at him.

“You look like you could use some sleep. You're kinda looking like a coon.”

Jason nods. “I... I'll be fine until my brother shows up.”

“So the man I was talking to on the phone was...?”

“Dick Grayson.”

Jared nods. Jason glances down at his clothes now and looks back up. “Thanks kid.”

Brett smirks. “S' no problem. Always happy to help the wounded and soaked.”

Jason turns his head as he hears the dryer start up and Jared laughs. “Jumpy, are we? Don't worry. No one here is going to hurt you.”

Jason nods minutely and heads to the door.

“Where are you going?” Brett asks.

“Making sure I wasn't followed.” Jason closes the door behind him and clears the block. He almost thinks nothing is amiss until he sees a dark shadow on a roof. Sadly, it's too dark to make out, but the shape is very Dick Grayson.

Jason calls out. “Hey Dickie-bird.”

The shape turns and Jason gasps as he leaps from the building. Idiot. Dick runs up to him and grabs him. Jason had spent four long hours making sure everything was good, and now it was great. Casual clothes on, Dick looks like just another guy.

Jason moves back into the house and Jared seems to have been waiting for him.

“My brother showed up, so it's time for me to hit the road.”

Dick waits patiently behind him and Jason comes further in.

“I'm sorry, for the way that things had to happen. Wish we could have met under other circumstances.” Jared stands, putting out his hand for Jason to shake.

Jason turns around for a second and Dick is nowhere to be seen.

No, no, no, no. This can't be happening.

“Dick!” Jason shouts.

“Calm down. I'm right beside the door.” Dick answers.

“Please, please stand where I can see you.” Jason says.

He turns back to Jared and then a thought occurs to him. “I need my pants back.”

Jared runs to the laundry room and grabs them. Jason takes a quick trip to the bathroom and changes. When he comes back out of the bathroom he shouts up the stairs.

“Brett, I'm going to have to keep your shirt!”

“That's cool! Keep it!” is his answer. The voice is deeper than both his and Jason's, but is surprisingly clear.

Dick beckons him to come and Jason shakes Jared's hand one last time with a thank you. They take off and then as soon as they're out of range of the house Dick turns on him.

“He said you were bleeding! What happened?”

“They shot me. What did you expect? A clean getaway?” Jason's head hurts. “Let's get out of here.” he puts a hand on his head and closes his eyes.

“Shh, hey. Don't worry, you're safe.” Dick wraps around him and Jason pulls him as close as possible.

Dick lets him stand there a few moments, as reassurance that this is real. He's going home. The last time they were in Russia, they had all been together. This time Jason was completely alone. Dick hated that.

“Come on, Jay. It's time to go home.”

Jason nods and lets him go. “Does Bruce know?”

“He was with the JLA when he got the call. He had me on it instead. He wanted to be here Jay.” Dick puts an arm on his shoulder.

“It's okay.”

Dick nods and they get up to the roof. Jason is slower on the climb, but Dick is helping him along. Then he's dizzy again. Jason stumbles onto the gravel rooftop and heaves a breath. His head hurts and Jason curls up again. Dick pries him back so he's lying flat on the ground.

“Where does it hurt, Jay?”

“My head.”

Dick gets behind him and cradles his head gently. He starts to rub circles into his scalp, using what he has for nails to help massage. Jason closes his eyes, his vision swimming in long ovals. He doesn't even hurl this time, and for some reason, Jason is pretty pleased with himself.

“How long has this been going on, Jason?” Dick asks.

“Since I got kidnapped. Whatever they hit me with is pretty powerful.”

“I'll say, if it's still bringing you down.”

Jason groans and puts a hand to his head. “Ow.”

Dick gets him to the jet and Jason settles into the co-pilot's seat. His shoulder aches, but that's minor. His brain hurts, but at least he knows it's there. Dick heads for home.

“So did they have to beat you first, or did they just hit you over the head to take you?”

“Needle, actually.”

Dick nods sympathetically. Needles sometimes sucked more than being beaten. You never know what they have in them. Obviously.

…......

Jason moves immediately to his bed as soon as they hit home, and Dick sends Alfred his direction. Alfred checks him over, takes a blood sample for Bruce to analyze, then sits on the bed.

“How are we, Master Jason?”

“Well enough. I get dizzy spells and sometimes I throw up.”

“We need to get some food in you. That should help some. Come now, Master Jason. I know how well you like watching food be prepared.”

Alfred supports him from the waist and they get into the kitchen. Jason tries to shake the feeling that he's going to throw up in the kitchen, but it's not going to well when he rests his head on the table. It's cold, and that helps stave off that feeling.

Alfred finishes up the chicken noodle soup and Jason's stomach growls, for the first time since he was taken.

“That crap must be wearing off.” Jason huffs. “Finally.”

Alfred hands him the bowl and Jason eats nice and slow. Thankfully, Alfred was smart enough not to give him too much. Jason was full pretty fast.

And then a sight that surprises him, and pleases him at the same time greets his view. He gets up. “Dig, my man. How's is going?”

“Jason, it's good to see you. Glad to see you're not dead.” They shake hands and then hug. Diggle glances him over. “It's good to see you, man. You've shrunk a little.”

“Thankfully not in height.” Jason grins.

“How long you suppose you're gonna need me to stick around?”

“Probably a couple of days. Minimum. If Alfred has any say in it, probably four.”

“I'll keep that in mind. I'm sticking around until you're healthy enough to be back on the streets. Oliver isn't too happy about it, but in this case, Oliver gets overruled.”

“Thanks, Diggle. I'm going to be confined to bed rest if Bruce has any say also. So, care to take me with you?”

“Not until you get a little better. Then maybe.”

That makes Jason smile. He would take Jason out if it wasn't going against his well-being.

“So I just need to get the rest of this drug out of my system and we're good to go.”

The door closes. “Jason?” Bruce calls out.

“In the kitchen, Master Bruce.” Alfred answers for him.

Bruce is suddenly in the kitchen and he grabs Jason's arm, a firm hand on his shoulder. Usually that would be okay, but Jason's shoulder didn't care for it. Jason hisses.

“Are you okay?” Bruce asks, concern deeply evident in his eyes.

“I got shot escaping. Bruce, we have to help them.” Jason suddenly remembered that he wasn't the only one.

“Them?”

“It wasn't just me, there were more. I wasn't the only one they took.”

Bruce's expression darkens. “How many?”

“ _Yo no say_!” Jason exclaims.

Bruce frowns. “Jason, you switched to Spanish for a second. Care to repeat that?”

“I don't know.” Jason growls. “The only reason I got away was because they had taken me outside. They didn't want me anyway, so I wasn't seeing the problem with running.”

“Wait, they didn't want you?”

“Naw, said I was to old. The were afraid I was going to fight them to get away at every turn. But whoever's left, we need to help them.”

“Jason, do you know where Kori and Roy are?”

“They're in..... Huh.” Jason rushes up the stairs to his room and grabs his phone. He calls Roy.

“Hey Jason, long time no see.”

“Where are you?”

“The Middle East, why?”

“I need you to go to Russia and stop a smuggling ring. They're taking kids.” Jason growls.

 

Roy pauses. “And you've come to know this how?”

“Because apparently I was ripe pickings to smuggle overseas and be locked in a room with a muzzle on my face for eight days!”

Alfred pauses at the door with more soup. “Dear me.”

Roy is shouting now. “Kori, change course. We're going to Russia, now!” he pauses, Kori talking. “Just do it!”

Jason hangs up the phone and suddenly he's being hugged. From a couple of directions. Jason can't hold it together, and now that they're hugging him, all of Jason's fight seems to drain out of him. He can hear Alfred settle his tray on his bedside table. Jason can still feel the muzzle on his face and suddenly he feels like he can't breathe. He chokes out a couple of sobs and Bruce and Dick let him sink to the floor, their arms still around him.

Bruce speaks first. “Why did they... muzzle you?”

“I... I bit the guy who was looking in my mouth that first day. He told me if I bit him, that I'd be sorry, but I did it anyway.”

“So they muzzled you for biting. There's a shocker.” Dick huffs.

Bruce cuffs him upside the head and Dick goes back to hugging. Bruce shushes him, gently rubbing his back.

“It's okay.” he keeps repeating that, and Jason wonders who taught Bruce how to be mother and father at the same time.

“It was me.” Dick giggles.

Jason hadn't realized he'd said anything and inhales a little sharper. Bruce and Dick are grounding him. He'll be okay. Jason gives himself a few more seconds, which turn into minutes.

He jumps when his cell rings. “Yeah?” he answers, his voice hoarse.

“We're in Russia. Where do we go?”

“Give me the phone, Jay.” Dick makes a grabby motion. Jason hands it over. “Try three miles northeast of Tatarstan.”

Roy sighs at the sound of Jason's hoarse breaths. “Give us another three hours. Don't worry, Jason. We'll take care of it.”

“I don't even think they knew who I was.” Jason murmurs.

“Jason.” Bruce puts a careful hand on top of his head. “We can't legally resurrect you from the dead. It would raise too many questions. No one knows you are my son.”

“That last time we were taken by Russians, they just took Jason because he fought back to keep them from taking us.” Dick nods.

Jason clutches his head as another wave of nausea rolls over him, making his vision swim.

Bruce pulls Jason close, but not so close that he pulls him away from Dick. “What's wrong?”

“They gave him something when they knocked him out to ship him overseas. It took away his appetite and makes him nauseous. He gets vertigo, and really dizzy. So basically, he's been hung over for the past two weeks.”

Bruce puts his arm around Jason's shoulders more securely and pulls him up at his knees. He lifts Jason up too easily and that worries him. Jason needs to start eating again. He settles him on his bed and Jason falls asleep fairly quickly now that he's comfortable.

Dick frowns. “When he wakes up, we need to get him a shower.”

Bruce nods. Instead of going to the Batcave, he sits on Jason's bed and stays with him. Dick smiles. Bruce has grown a lot in the parenting section.

…. 4 hours later.

Jason wakes up to the feeling that there's someone near him. A distinctly hovering presence that could only be Bruce. Bruce was hovering? Bruce never hovered. He was surprised that Bruce hadn't jetted off to Russia, and started cracking skulls together to satisfy his anger.

Oh, wait, that was him.

Jason moans as he comes around, stretching out across his bed. He can feel Bruce's rumbling chuckle through his bed. A hand falls on Jason's head and Jason doesn't move at the contact.

“Come on, Jason. You know that you're awake now.” Bruce hums.

This is extremely weird.

“We were thinking about having you take a shower. All the hot water you can stand.”

“You shouldn't bribe people.” Jason mumbles rolling onto his stomach.

Bruce chuckles. “It's not a bribe if you get what you want.”

“I want to sleep.” Jason sighs. “But my body agrees with you. Traitor.” Jason mumbles some more about being woken up.

He pushes himself back into a sitting position and sighs. Bruce stands up and offers Jason a hand. Jason takes it and Bruce leads him steadily to the bathroom. Jason feels better this morning. He got a good rest, and he feels safe.

Safe.

That's a word Jason hasn't felt in a long time. Well, not since before that night on the roof. Jason can hardly believe that night, even now. Forgiveness isn't an easy thing for Jason to accept, or to give. He doesn't know if he accepts it even now. He still kills, and he still uses deadly weapons. Why, how could they all just look past that?

Bruce gets Jason to remove his shirt and he carefully puts a cover over his wounds.

Jason admits as he steps into the shower that it's wonderful. He moans with pleasure as the hot water warms him to the core. His muscles relax and his mind clears. He forgets Bruce is outside the curtain until he chuckles.

“I'll be outside if you need anything.”

Jason tells him okay and Bruce leaves the door open a crack. It's a good thing the manor isn't drafty. He washes all the dirt and grime off and cleans cautiously around the bandaged area. When he steps out, he wraps a towel around his hips and dries his feet so Alfred won't kill him for leaving water tracks across the house, and moves towards the mirror. He rubs enough of the steam off to see his upper body in the mirror and he can see now that he is in fact too skinny.

He can't really bring himself to care as he shaves his face and dries his hair with another towel, his hair sticking up in odd directions. He feels clean and good for the first time in days. He walks from the steamy bathroom and just as Bruce promised, he's outside the door. Bruce looks up and Jason smiles.

The strange thing is, Bruce smiles too, and shows some teeth. “You look good, Jason.”

“I feel good.” Jason pauses. “Look, Bruce, I know that you have an obligation to the JLA, and I know that you wish you coul...”

Bruce hugs him, not caring that his upper body is still wet. “That's no excuse. You're my son, and it is my obligation to protect you. It is, and it should have been. It always should have been, and for that, I'm so sorry.” Bruce's hand goes up to Jason's hair. He holds him out at arm's length. “And when it wasn't, you got this.” Bruce tugs gently on Jason's white streak.

Jason can't help himself. It has been years since anyone has gotten him to cry with that little amount of effort. He has waited years for this apology, and now he can't hold himself together. Bruce hugs Jason again; Jason is struggling to blink back tears.

“I'm sorry, Jason. So sorry.” Bruce keeps saying that, and Jason wants to look away, but he just can't.

Jason moves back into Bruce's embrace, and Bruce's fingers are back up in his hair in no time at all. He doesn't know what to say. How can he possibly fight against something that feels so right? He doesn't know what to do.

As if in response to the pressure, his head starts to pound and Jason has no time to react before he blacks out.

….... Bruce's POV

Jason hadn't said anything for a long while and then he just collapsed, thankfully forwards. Bruce catches him and then gathers Jason up on his arms. He carries him back to his room and waits for him to come to. He sits easily on the side of the bed with a hand on Jason's head.

The hand seems to warrant Jason's express attention and he groans.

“Easy, slow and easy. You've only been out a few minutes.” Bruce coaxes.

Jason nods and opens his eyes a crack.

In a moment of extreme impulsiveness, Jason leans forwards and wraps his arms around Bruce's shoulders. Bruce's free hand comes around his back to support Jason, while his other stays firmly planted on the bed. Bruce chuckles. When Jason starts shaking, Bruce knows that Jason finally understands. Jason's death had hurt him, and Bruce nearly went insane with anger at himself. It nearly tore Bruce apart.

Jason buries his head in Bruce's shoulder and holds on.

“Shhh. It's okay.”

“No.” Jason shakes his head vigorously. “It's not.” he clings a little more.

“Shhh. It's okay. It's okay.” Bruce keeps saying it, trying to appease Jason. “I love you, Jason.”

Jason freezes for just a second before letting his tears fall. All of his emotions are now out in the open. He can't just explode this time, he can't ignore them. So he lets them fill in all the little holes.

Bruce's chest rumbles with a amused chuckle. “Remember that we're all here for you. We all love you, even Damian. He and I just have a hard time showing it.”

Jason croaks out a response. “Like father, like son.”

Bruce lets him lean back onto his pillows. “Rest, Jason. We'll find an antidote for whatever is in your system.” Bruce puts a hand on Jason's face and a gentle thumb wipes the tears from under his eyes. “Sleep. You need it.”

Jason nods and by the time Bruce hits the doorway, Jason is asleep. When Bruce reaches the main floor he calls for Alfred.

“Yes, Master Bruce?” he asks.

“How's the antidote coming?”

“Rather smoothly. Master Damian is tending to its final stages now.”

Bruce heads down to the Batcave, seeing Damian at the computer. “How's it going, Damian?” Bruce asks.

“Nearly done. It should be complete within the hour.” Damian looks back and sees something.

Dick stumbles into the main cave. He's panting hard, and he's sweaty.

“You okay, Dick?”

“Yeah, just taking a breather.” His eyes are tired, and he looks a little angry.

Bruce approaches him. “Are you sure?”

Dick takes his opportunity to vent his frustration. “No. I'm not okay, alright? Someone put something in my brother that makes him pass out and not eat or drink. He gets migraines and they put a muzzle on him.” Dick turns away. “ _They muzzled my brother._ ” he says, so quiet Bruce barely hears him.

“I understand, Dick. He's my son, and I'm angry too.”

Dick runs a hand through his hair. Bruce puts a hand on his shoulder and he's surprised by the shaking of suppressed rage.

“Easy.” Bruce coaxes.

Dick relaxes a little, but not much.

“If it'll help any, I'll spar with you.”

“Okay.”

Bruce and Dick head to the ring, and Dick gives Bruce a chance to put different clothes on. Cashmere might not be proper fighting attire. Bruce gets into the ring and they warm each other up with regular moves. Bruce moves slowly and cautiously, knowing that when Dick is angry he hits harder and blocking him might hurt him. He's also reckless. But that's anger. This is truly rage. He's completely calm, but ultimately more dangerous.

They start fighting for real on Bruce's cue that he's ready. Dick swings first and Bruce catches his arm. Bruce pulls him past and waits for him to turn around.

“Easy, Dick. You don't want to fight angry against me.”

Dick takes a deep, calming breath and nods. “Sorry.”

Dick comes at him again and ducks Bruce's counter, leaving Bruce's ribs open. Dick swings, but not very hard.

“Come on, Dick.” Bruce goads. “You may not want to fight angry, but you know mock fights won't do you any good.”

Bruce grabs his shoulders and sends him to the floor. Dick slides on his back and kicks himself back up. He lowers into defensive stance and lets Bruce come first. Bruce lands blows on his chest and Dick steps back a couple paces. Dick jumps on Bruce's shoulders and realizes his mistake as Bruce lets himself go boneless. He loses his balance and his back slams into the mat. Bruce gets up and grins.

“I know you've got more in you. Come on!”

Dick kicks out with his feet and Bruce grabs his right ankle, picking him up and holding him upside-down. Dick puts his hands on the floor and kicks at Bruce's stomach. Bruce lets him go with a gasp and Dick spins around, aiming a kick at Bruce's head. Bruce ducks and tackles Dick to the floor. Dick squirms and Bruce gets around his back, letting him go. Dick bends back to avoid a flying leg to the face and leverages his hips to bring his feet up in a damaging arc. Bruce sees it coming and takes Dick's hands out from under him with a low sweep. Dick crashes down on his left side with a hoarse gasp. His shoulder socket burns and he grimaces, holding his side. He crawls to his feet and he hesitates at the concern on Bruce's face.

“I'm okay.”

Bruce nods and comes at him again. Bruce leaps at Dick , grabbing him by his shoulders and flipping over him, bringing Dick flat on his back. His head knocks against the mat and he rolls to avoid a punch to his head. Dick is momentarily stunned by a kick to his ribs and a successive hit to his stomach. He rushes forwards with a knee to Bruce's chest and sweeps his feet out from under him. Bruce utilizes his fall in a cartwheel movement, catching Dick's head between his thighs and twisting him to the ground again, arm against his throat.

“Pinned.” Bruce smirks.

Dick huffs and splays out his arms. “Pinned.” he agrees.

Bruce ruffles Dick's hair against his protests and gets up. “Round two?”

Dick works his shoulder. “Round two.” he gets to his feet and grimaces as his side stitches up.

Bruce advances towards him and Dick does a handstand, spinning and knocking Bruce's heavy shoulders aside.

“Better.” Bruce comments.

Bruce retaliates, hitting Dick on the jaw and sending him reeling. His body automatically rolls away. Bruce seems to have been expecting it and is already on him by the time Dick gets to his feet. He grabs Dick's arms, turning him around and getting him in a headlock. He puts pressure on the carotid artery and Dick's struggles weaken. Right before he would have blacked out, Bruce lets him go. Dick stumbles to the floor. He shakes his head. Bruce figures he's blinking black spots from his eyes.

Dick sits on the floor, panting. He rolls his left shoulder a couple of times. Bruce crouches next to him. “You sure it's okay?”

Dick nods. “Thanks, Bruce.”

Dick lets Bruce hoist him up and he realizes Damian has left the cave. He taps Bruce's arm and he glances back.

“Where did he go?”

“No idea. Is the antidote finished?”

Bruce goes over to the computer and looks over the stats. “No. Looks like it'll need another fifteen or twenty minutes.”

“Dami! Where are you, you little ninja?” Dick calls.

Bruce tells Dick to check the backyard. He runs up to Jason's room and finds Damian at his side, feeding him something. Jason doesn't seem to mind any of it so Bruce moves back downstairs. He grabs Dick and tells him to get out on patrol. Bruce needs to stay in tonight.

…....... Jason

 

When he woke up to gentle probing of his shoulder, he expected Bruce, or Dick, or Alfred. The last person in the world he expected was on his bed beside him. Demon Spawn.

“What do you need?” Jason grumbles.

He rolls from his side to his stomach and raises his arms to wrap them around his pillows.

“I'm cataloging your injuries.”

Jason had forgotten about the wound on his side and realized that when he raised his arms, he gave Damian unimpeded access to it. Damian peels the bandage away just enough to see the wound.

“Hardly even a scrape.” Damian huffs.

Jason nods. When cool hands press onto his back, he freezes.

“Relax, Todd.” Damian admonishes.

Jason doesn't know what Damian's up to, but he forces himself to breathe and uncoil his muscles. Damian's small hands work at his back and Jason can't help but groan. He can feel Damian push on all the knots in his back and everything loosens. Jason rolls over to looks at him.

“You know, Damian, for a used-to-be assassin, you're pretty gentle.”

“Don't assume that because I'm doing this for you means that you get to demean my personal values. Whether you believe it or not, I was troubled at the aspect of you being missing.” Damian tells him to wait a couple of moments.

Jason flops onto his back and breathes steadily. He wonders briefly why Damian would even bother. But Damian is very much like Bruce in that way. Damian returns with a steaming cup of something.

“What's that?” Jason asks, pushing himself into a sitting position.

“It's soup.”

“Not poisoned or anything, is it?” Jason chuckles.

Damian glances up at him for a moment, pausing in his soup stirring. He considers carefully and nods. “No poison. This time.” Damian hands him the bowl.

Jason takes the spoon from Damian and tastes it curiously. It's not bad, actually. He takes a bigger spoonful and bobs his head. It's good. The aftertaste is something of a mystery. The broth is amazing. Jason stirs the soup thoughtfully and glances at Damian.

Damian seems intent on knowing his thoughts and waits him out. Jason finishes it, which should be input enough.

“Thank you, Damian.” Jason puts his arms out and Damian takes his chance. He latches onto Jason and Jason wraps his arm around Damian.

Jason hits the snooze after that and he doesn't know if Damian left or not.

…......

He wakes up, his arm still around a small person. Jason's chin is on top of Damian's head, and Damian is asleep. Jason looks out the window and sees that it's almost sunset. Slept most of the day away, it seems.

Alfred rolls his cart into the room. He stays silent. His cart doesn't make a sound. He unveils Jason's supper and Jason's mouth waters on sight. He gently taps Damian and the kid rolls away, still out. Jason accepts his plate and savors every bite. Even being home more, he still doesn't eat Alfred's meals very often.

Alfred comes really close to Jason's face. “Would you care for some antidote, Master Jason?”

Jason nods. “I guess.”

Alfred gives him a little cup with liquid in it, and before Jason can give himself the opportunity to think, he downs it.

“Rest now, Master Jason. You should feel better in the morning.”

“Thanks, Alfred.” Jason mumbles, drifting off, fed and comfortable.

…...

When he wakes up again, which is getting annoying, Damian is still asleep on the other side of the bed. Kid sleeps like a sack of bricks. Jason truly does feel better. He pokes at Damian.

“Come on, Demon Spawn. It's time to go get some breakfast.”

Damian is suddenly upright and he drags a hand over his face. “Did you say something about breakfast?” Damian mumbles.

“Yep. It's time to go downstairs.”

He throws on a shirt and a different pair of sweatpants and saunters downstairs. Jason is surprised by how good he feels, but then again, Alfred is a miracle worker. Jason comes up to the table and Bruce glances up at him, smiling.

“Morning, Jason. How are you feeling this morning?”

“I'm pretty good, actually.” Damian stands next to him at the edge of the room for a moment before going to sit down. Jason sits down on Damian's left, across from Tim. Dick is next to Tim and Bruce is at the head. Alfred brings in their meal and stands diligently by the door.

Bruce speaks up again. “You okay, Jason?”

“I'm great. Promise. Best family in the world, with a murcielago for a dad.” Jason chuckles.

Dick tilts his head back, considering his words. Most likely running them through every language he knows. He laughs belatedly and Bruce just smirks. Jason glances at Tim and he looks very confused. He knows Spanish. Jason knows he does. He's just not thinking. Damian huffs.

The rest of their meal passes in comfortable chatter. Bruce asks Dick how work is coming and Dick says that Ramirez is back to work, Nick's funeral was held. Dick didn't attend.

Jason can't really blame him. Nick did try to stab him after all. And kicked his legs when Dick wasn't ready for it. The physical therapy Dick had to go through was hard, and that wasn't right in Jason's book.

Damian got to talk about school, and Dick and Jason got to talk about Jason thinking about becoming an officer of the law. Jason put that conversation on hold. Mostly because it could never happen. Tim talked about nerd life. High school was a blast, blah, blah, blah.

Jason puts his plate in the sink, even with Alfred's look. As if it wasn't right for Jason to carry his plate to the sink himself.

…....... Roy POV

As soon as Jason called, he knew something had to be up. Sometimes Jason called to chat, but this didn't seem like one of those times. He was a little worried when Jason had asked where they were.

'The Middle East, why?'

Russia. Smuggling. They were taking kids, and Jason was one of them. Roy had shouted up to Kori, and the look on her face was more than shocked. Roy almost never yelled at her.

“What on earth for, Roy?Is something wrong?”

He had finished talking to Jason and then threw his phone at the wall of the ship. Kori put it on autopilot and came back to him.

“Roy? What's going on? Why are we going to Russia?”

“Jason is putting us on the tail of a smuggling ring. They've been taking young teens.”

“Why would Jason set us on such a course?”

“Because they grabbed him.”

“By mistake?” Kori asks.

“I'm not sure if he knows, but they took him and drugged him. Kori, they put a muzzle on him for over a week.”

Kori's hand goes to her mouth.

Roy nods. “Sure, he's taken a lot worse. But that doesn't make it any better.”

…..

Kori and Roy break down the main door. They clear all the rooms and kill a bunch of guys. One was missing a finger and Roy got answers from him. Roy was angry, and he made sure that the man suffered before he died.

He had been the one who was responsible. And even if he wasn't the highest man, Roy couldn't bring himself to care. Starfire's bolts ripped through suits and guards. He eyes were an angry shade of green.

And they got all the kids out before they blew that place apart. Figured they'd be safe in their hidden little hill. Safe behind closed doors. Not from the Outlaws.

And when they finished in Russia, they tracked the funds. And who would have guessed where that led them? Black Mask. Of course they could have come into Gotham with rage and a hail of gunfire, but they decided to let Jason choose.

Jason told them to let it lie.

 


End file.
